


Soul Bound

by Saasan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon Deals, Demon Summoning, Demon!Shiro, Demon/Human Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fate & Destiny, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Occult, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sheith Fantasy Occult Week, Urban Fantasy, Witch!Keith, demon cock and some plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2020-10-12 19:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20569475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saasan/pseuds/Saasan
Summary: Takashiael Shiroganeth is a class 9 demon with a very big problem: he's waited almost a thousand years for his nemesis to be reborn, and he's actually managed to lose track of the gods damn time.  Now bound to a cute but possibly incompetent witch--a human named Keith who has his own time-sensitive fate to worry about--he'll do whatever it takes to stay in the Middle Realm, even if it has grown unrecognizable (and wildly confusing) since he was last there.  Apparently, you can't just kill rude people anymore.  Who knew?A story of love, demons, and learning that some fates just won't budge.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a tradition in the Kogane family for infants to be taken to have their fate read within the first month of their tiny lives. “Need to know about you before the moon does,” Grandma Kogane had once explained. It made no sense to Keith--only shifters needed to care what the moon thought of them--but Grandma was all kinds of superstitious, so he knew better than to argue. Besides, in his case they had learned something very important: on the night of his 20th birthday, a demon would try to take his life. 

Keith had been scared by his fate as a child. A demon trying to kill him? What could be more terrifying? His grandmother, though, had pointed out that he came from a family of witches, and it was practically expected he would have a tussle or two with a demon sometime in his life, and here he had a chance to get the drop on them.

“You know the day already,” she said, pounding down bread dough with flour-coated hands. “That’s the hard part. You know when to be ready by, so find their name and then you’re set. Wish I’d been half so lucky with my reading--all it told me was I’d get married. Who cares about that? Any fool can get married and no one needs to be warned ahead of time. I just about lost my hands when your great uncle Delbert’s summoning spell backfired and set loose every familiar in the block. _ That _would have been nice to have some warning over. Pass the cinnamon.”

So Keith had decided he was lucky after all. He knew for sure he’d survive to 20, and that gave him years to prepare. He studied hard and practiced magic daily and passed his exams, earning a Summoner’s License at age 15. From there it was easy to get into a witch’s training school and he studied revealing spells and potions, and now at the age of 19, he had the skills and the knowledge to take the final step and learn the name of the demon who would try to kill him. All he needed now was a familiar.

~*~*~

Despite the thousands of years humans and elves and the other inhabitants of the Middle Realm had been summoning demons, very few people knew what a summoning looked like from the other side. They did not happen randomly, pulling unsuspecting demons through a vortex of blinding light--not unless it was a very strong summoner or one with a specific name to target. No, for most summons, it worked rather like a ringing phone in the middle of nowhere, and if someone was passing by and interested, they might pick up. If no one was interested, the summon failed, and the confused witch, wizard, or sorcerer was left scratching their heads or kicking their tomes, wondering what went wrong. Or at least, that was how it used to work.

In recent times, demons had begun to track down places where a “phone” was likely to ring, and anyone looking for a chance to pop over into the Middle Realm would wait nearby, ready to grab a summons that suited them. Larger demons had first pick, naturally, but most preferred not to bother with weak summoners. It was insulting to make a pact with a cupboard witch, and so the majority of summons were answered by low demons. 

Takashiael Shiroganeth was not a low demon.

However, the demon realm had neither moon nor sun and it was a bit hard to track the passing of time, and Shiroganeth had just realized he was very, very late. 

A circle grew and brightened on the ground. A cluster of the lowest rabble took interest, fighting among themselves to determine who would go through the portal.

“Move, filth,” Shiroganeth hissed, barrelling past them. He stepped into the light without so much as scenting who might be on the other side and was gone.

~*~*~

Keith was a practiced summoner and came from a good pedigree of witches. He could have summoned a class 3 or even a class 4 demon if he really wanted to, but Coran’s Academy of Practical Witchery only allowed a class 1 summons for someone’s first bound familiar, and so that’s what Keith had prepared for.

The hulking beast that appeared in the center of his circle was not a 1st class demon. It towered over him--easily three feet taller than the human--with curving horns that nearly scraped the ceiling. Keith gaped up at it and said nothing. The demon frowned.

“You have summoned and I have answered, little master,” the demon said. “Were you only playing with circles or did you have need of my services?”

“Oh! I, um, I do need something, yes,” Keith stammered. “I’m not playing.”

The demon looked unimpressed.

Keith gathered his scattered wits as best he could and bowed. “I seek entry to a demon market,” he said. “What are your terms?”

It was among the most common requests a summoner might make. Inhabitants of the Middle Realm could enter a demon market without a demon, of course, but there were simply too many dangers--or imitation products--that they might not recognize without a demon guide present to warn them, so it was in the Middler’s best interest to have a familiar present. 

The demon raised its eyebrows. Keith wondered faintly if the demon would hit him for his insolence--summoning a creature of its massive power just to go on a glorified shopping trip--but the demon simply nodded its acknowledgement of the request.

“I need to know the date,” it said.

Once again, Keith stared. What self-respecting demon would answer a summons just to find out the _ date _? The demon apparently realized the meaning behind Keith’s stare and it flicked its ear in annoyance as it scowled.

“I need to know the date,” it said slowly, like it was explain a simple concept to an exceptionally stupid person, “in order to make my request properly.”

Keith blushed a little and reached into his robe’s pocket, fished out his phone, and pulled up the calendar app. He would have just told the demon the day, but frankly a demon might be more interested in the star charts or moon cycles or pretty much anything other than the sun date, so he figured the complex app he used should show him sufficient data. He showed the demon the screen.

The demon leaned down and squinted at the screen, mumbling dates and years under its breath, calculating. After a minute, it stood back up.

“I need,” it announced, “to stay in the Middle Realm for the next forty or so years.”

Keith was flabbergasted. “_ Forty _ years?”

“Give or take,” the demon shrugged. 

Keith shook his head. This was not a deal he could make. He was not about to be bound to a single demon--let alone one of this calibre!--for the next _ forty years _.

“Our terms are not equal,” he said. “The deal is not met.”

Hopefully, the demon would be willing to be bargain. Keith was already nineteen--he would like to get the name he needed as soon as possible, and even waiting a single week to make another summon was longer than he’d prefer.

“Very well. I wish to stay in the Middle Realm for twenty years.”

Keith winced. “I’m sorry, no.”

“Ten years.”

Holy shit those years were dropping fast. “What exactly is it you need?” Keith asked. A demon this powerful could stay without a host for several years if not longer. It did not need someone’s energy to feed on, so why make a deal at all if it only needed to be in the Middle Realm for ten years? Hells, a demon like this might have been able to bridge the realms all on its own. 

The demon sighed. “I broke my hostbond the last time I was in the Middle Realm. I need to rectify it with the reincarnation of my host.”

And _ that _made sense. A demon could break their terms with a host if they wished, but few chose to do so. The break would linger, pestering them, and eventually move from annoying to painful. Given enough time, even a powerful demon would wish to make amends.

“And you do not know exactly when they will be reborn,” Keith concluded. 

The demon nodded again. 

“How about this: I’ll be your host until you determine the reincarnation date of your original host, and after that you’re on your own,” Keith offered, “but, you do have to actively be trying to divine the date. No lingering for convenience.”

“The terms are acceptable,” the demon said with something close to a smile. “The deal is met.”

“The deal is met,” Keith agreed. He absolved the circle and the demon breathed deep, now fully in the Middle Realm. Its nose twitched. 

“The air smells...odd,” it noted. It looked around the room. “No salt?”

Keith grimaced a little, embarrassed. “I was not expecting to need salt,” he admitted. A class 1 demon would have been a piece of cake for him, but yes, he’d been dumb enough to not take precautions.

The demon shrugged. “Wouldn’t have worked on me anyway.” It bowed its head in a tiny gesture of deference. “What may I call my host?”

“Keith,” the human responded. “And what may I call my familiar?”

“Keith,” the demon said, trying out the name. “Call me Shiro.”

~*~*~

The human--Keith--smelled nice. The drop of blood he used to make Shiro’s familiar collar smelled nice, too, and Shiro decided he was looking forward to feeding off him (not that he would need to, but it was within his right to ask, and yes, he would be asking).

Their ritual complete, Shiro followed Keith out of the summoning room and into the open great hall of the academy, where people promptly began yelling.

“What the fuck is that?!” a boy with tan skin and brown hair screamed, pointing at Shiro.

(Rude.)

“Keith,” a large, darker skinned boy said cautiously, “are you in danger?”

“Holy shit it’s a class 9!” a small girl cried excitedly, holding some kind of glowing stone(?) tablet.

“Keith Kogane!” an elf with fiery hair and stylish mustache yelled. “What is the first rule of summoning familiars in this school?!”

“It was an accident,” Keith said sheepishly, “and I’m fine, Hunk. Thanks for asking.”

The only person who hadn’t spoken yet--a beautiful young elf woman with silver hair--placed her hand on the fiery man’s arm. 

“It’s wearing a collar, Uncle Coran. They met terms,” she pointed out.

“Its name is Shiro,” Keith said. He gestured to the group. “Shiro, this is Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Professor Coran, and Allura. Guys, this is Shiro. He’s going to be my familiar for a month or so.”

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” Lance chanted under his breath.

“What kind of demon are you?” Pidge asked, adjusting the glass circles that adorned her face. “My readings aren’t coming through properly.”

“Pidge, don’t antagonize it,” Hunk hissed.

“They’re usually better behaved than this,” Keith apologized. 

Shiro doubted it. 

~*~*~

Keith had expected and prepared for a rabbit-sized demon. Looking at the massive creature before him, surveying his shocked classmates and twitching its tail, Keith had to admit to himself he had a problem. Coran’s Academy was well-respected but small. It only accepted a handful of students at a time, and the accommodations for them were quite reasonable. Keith had a tiny bathroom and bedroom to himself, and then a lounge and kitchen he shared with the other students, and there was no way this demon could fit on the little mat he’d set up for it. Hells, it might not fit in his bedroom, period. He doubted the other students would be okay with it sleeping on one of the lounge couches, either. Maybe he should sleep on the couch and let the demon make the most of his room. Damn. This was going to suck.

“I need to take Shiro shopping,” he announced. “You can interrogate him later.”

The demon’s eyebrows sprung up.

“Not the market--just thought you’d like some clothes,” Keith said. He wasn't mentally prepared to go to the demon market just yet, not when he was still overwhelmed by the fact that he’d apparently summoned a _ class 9 demon _.

The demon glanced down at itself. There was only a loincloth covering whatever sort of genitals it had, and that was hardly up to modern modesty standards. Plus, it was intimidating enough with its heavily muscled chest and thighs bared to the world. Gods. Couple that with the claws, horns, and fangs and people would definitely be crossing to the far side of the street to avoid them. The least Keith could do was make sure his familiar was _ clothed _.

“I am covered,” the demon said, pointing to its loincloth, “and I do not require armor.”

“Your nipples could poke my eye out,” Lance blurted before slapping his hands over his mouth. 

Thank the gods, the demon only chuckled at that. 

“I don’t know the last time you were summoned, but demons customarily wear clothes these days,” Allura said kindly. 

“We do keep a few things on hand, but they’re all for things class 5 or smaller,” Professor Coran apologized. “I’m afraid you’ll have to venture forth in what you have on.”

“I don’t think anyone will stop them,” Hunk muttered.

The demon chuckled again and stretched. “Ready when you are, little master,” it said, smirking down at Keith, its voice suddenly smooth and dangerous. Its fangs were exposed, and Keith had the distinct impression the demon was showing them on purpose.

Keith looked up at it and tried not to let it show that he was rattled. He nodded briskly. “Follow me.”

~*~*~

The human stopped by his room to drop off his summoning robes. Under them he was wearing tight pants made of a rough material and a soft, short tunic. Shiro looked around the room curiously as the human folded the robes and grabbed a leather jacket. Shiro had to stoop to get into the room--not a surprise; humans were tiny--and decided it was pleasant but dull. The human had books on his shelves, a protective charm over the bed, and everything was tidy, but there were none of little items most humans used to decorate their homes, the baubles and keepsakes that somehow held value. Well, it was no matter to him how the human live.

(He did smirk at the pallet the human had placed by his bed, clearly intended for a much smaller demon.)

“Alright,” Keith said, slinging on his jacket. “Let’s find you something to wear.”

Shiro nodded and half-listened as the human gave a brief tour of the academy on their way outside.

“What’s with all the lightning magic?” Shiro interrupted. He could hear it humming in the walls. “Some kind of protective barrier?”

The human blinked stupidly, confused. “What lightning magic?”

“It’s all over the place,” Shiro said, gesturing vaguely. “In the walls and ceiling, mostly.”

“Oh, that’s just regular electricity,” Keith shrugged, continuing on. “Middlers can create it now. We guide it through wires and it powers buildings and lights and stuff.”

Now _ that _was an advancement since Shiro’s last visit to the Middle Realm. Interesting. Keith, picking up on his curiosity, began trying to explain the various ways energy was generated and Shiro quickly lost interest. People didn’t use light charms indoors anymore. Got it. 

The tour ended quickly and they stepped outside. Shiro swallowed back a gasp. Just how long had he been gone from the Middle Realm?! He struggled to calculate the years as he stared at the world around him, overwhelmed by the size of the buildings that towered in all directions. He’d never seen a human city this large before, not by a long shot. The roads were paved and broad and teeming with Middlers. Humans, elves, dwarves, and a myriad of magical beasts crowded past while hulking steel boxes roared through the center. Shiro’s ears went flat and he took a step back. 

“What the hells,” he hissed. 

“What? What’s wrong?” Keith asked. He looked around, searching for danger.

(As if there could possibly be anything more dangerous in the street than Shiro…!)

“Just not sure what those boxes are,” Shiro frowned. On second thought, with how fast they were going, they might be dangerous.

(But not more dangerous than Shiro.)

“Oh! Those are cars,” Keith said. He started walking and explained that these were some kind of animal-less cart that people used to transport things in. Shiro also learned about trains and subways as the human guided him down a large hole that was apparently the entryway to the subways. He was not a fan.

“Who designed these things?” Shiro grumbled as he stepped into the subway tram after Keith. It was cramped and the air somehow smelled both artificial and full of a thousand creatures. It was disorienting and Shiro had half a mind to claw his way out of the metal tube, reveal his wings, and fly to the nearest mountain just so he could fucking breath. The demon realm smelled better than this.

“Dwarves did, I think,” Keith said, not recognizing a rhetorical question. It was underground travel that used metal. _ Of course _dwarves invented it.

Shiro snorted and tried to arrange his limps as tightly as possible. It wasn't a matter of him being polite and making room. Everyone in their particular compartment was giving them as wide a berth as they could, but in so small an area he preferred to stay crouched. It was hard to be battle-ready when he was stooped over. 

Keith seemed to notice his quandary, but he said nothing. The closest he came to acknowledging Shiro’s discomfort was to remark “It’s nice having you here. Means other people give up their seats.” 

“Pleasure to serve you,” Shiro sneered, showing his fangs. The human glanced away. Good. Shiro was not here to make friends. 

His tail twitched irritably. There was something about the little human he didn’t like. He hadn’t been scared enough, for one, when faced with Shiro instead of whatever scrawny creature he’d been expecting. It was downright rude--in Shiro’s opinion--that he hadn’t so much as pissed himself. He wasn't cocky about it, either. He wasn't ignoring Shiro’s power or pretending like he could somehow control him. It was like he just _ didn’t _care who or what Shiro was. Irritating. At least the other creatures were showing him proper respect.

The humans, elves, dwarves and other members of the upright races gave him careful glances from time to time, eyes lingering on his collar as if wanting to reassure themselves that he was still properly bound. The handful of demon familiars, on the other hand, absolutely refused to look in his direction. Wise. There was a class 4 that was probably used to being the top of the demonical food chain, and it snorted and flicked its ears occasionally which made Shiro smile. Small demons tended to do well in the Middle Realm and this one was suitably frustrated to be reminded that, back in their home realm, it was still worth nothing. 

“Something funny?” his human asked, looking at him curiously.

Shiro stared at him blankly. Had he been laughing?

“You smiled,” Keith shrugged, looking away again. 

Shiro considered not saying anything, but this was an opportunity to remind his little master who was the superior creature. “They’re afraid of me,” Shiro said.

His master snorted. “They should be,” he said. “You’re dangerous.”

“And I’m not dangerous to you?” Shiro said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully. 

Keith shrugged again. “You’re not going to kill me.” He paused and frowned. “You could still maim me, though.”

Shiro was incised. _ Of course _ he could break his bond and kill the human! Their terms were weak and the witch’s powers were nowhere near his own! 

“I could snap you like a twig with tip of my finger,” he growled. 

“Could, but you won’t,” Keith said, unconcerned. 

“I do not need your bond to stay here, little human,” Shiro snarled, temper nearly severed. “You would do well to remember that.”

“Look, I’m not trying to insult you. I know you’re way more powerful than I could ever hope to be; I just happen to know a snippet of my future, so I know you don’t kill me,” Keith said. He sounded annoyed, and Shiro was petty enough to be delighted that he’d gotten a reaction out of him.

“Oh?” Shiro asked. “And what do you know that guarantees it?”

“I know you don’t kill me, because I know who does,” the human said, and he stood up. “Come on. This is our stop.”

~*~*~

Keith hadn’t exactly lied. He didn’t know if the demon who would attack him on his next birthday was going to succeed in killing him and, come to think of it, he was not 100% that Shiro was not the very demon in question, but it was close enough to the truth and it made the demon stop growling, so he called it a win. He didn’t want them thrown out of a shop because his familiar was sulking and decided to cause a scene.

Gods. Somehow Keith wasn't surprised at all it had broken a bond before. Temperamental brat.

The demon’s mood improved once they left the subway. It stretched and looked up at the sky and nearly smiled, and Keith figured that was about as good as it would get. He wondered if the demon had felt claustrophobic underground. It had to bend pretty far over down there and, come to think of it, that was tantamount to bowing. For a demon that powerful, it was probably infuriating to spend so much time in a subservient position. Keith almost felt bad for it.

Almost.

Shiro continued to stare suspiciously around it as they walked from the subway to the specialty clothing store. Keith gave up on explanations--the demon ignored him almost instantly. If it had questions, it could bring them up itself. And, just before they made it to their destination, it did.

“Why aren’t there more wards? Most of these shops are unprotected.”

Not the question he would have expected.

“Waste of magic. Physical barriers keep most things out, and pretty much no one knows how to spot a fake ward. See that one over there?” Keith said, pointing to a small sigil painted above a doorway. “Fake. The one across the street is cool, though. That little side triangle makes it deactivate in sunlight, so the ward automatically works, but only at night. Pretty neat, huh?”

The demon looked between the two sigils. “Huh,” was all it said.

Keith tried not to sigh and started to walk again. The demon did not follow, so he stopped to turn around stare at it. It looked confused.

“What do you mean ‘waste of magic’?” Shiro asked. For some reason, he looked lost, like Keith had just told him breathing was a waste of air.

“Well, magic isn’t exactly infinite, and even after you cast a charm or ward it’s going to run out eventually. It’s just not practical to use magic all the time for everything. Plus, plenty of people can’t use magic,” Keith said. “Why pay someone else to make a ward for you when you can just put bars on your windows?” This was basic stuff. Well, it was for Middlers. Demons probably didn’t have to worry about running out of magical energy. Or shops in general.

“So...people who can’t recast wards themselves...just don’t use them?” the demon said slowly.

“Yup. And like I said--most people can’t spot fake wards from real ones, so a painted sigil is just as effective.” Keith cocked his head. “Not many species of Middlers can sense magic as easily as demons can, you know. Also, there’s residual magic all over the city just from people casting everyday spells. Sorting it out into particulars is hard, even for me, so it would be difficult to know if you’re sensing a ward or something else.”

Apparently content with that answer, the demon nodded and trotted dutifully to Keith’s side. Whatever.

They entered the specialty shop and were immediately greeted by a smartly dressed elf. 

“Good afternoon sirs,” he said, bowing politely. He studied Shiro carefully. “Let me venture a little guess: yokai demon, class 8, no--class 9. We do have a few things in its size on site, and we can also custom order any style from our catalog to fit.” 

Keith was vaguely annoyed the shopkeeper spoke to him, not Shiro. It’s not like Keith would be the one wearing the clothes (although, he would be the one paying for them, and perhaps that was the point).

“Before we begin, I will need to check your license, sir,” the elf continued. Keith bristled but dug for his wallet.

“You think I can’t have a class 9 in public?” he said stiffly as he pulled out his license and handed it over. Keith might be young, but he passed his licensing exam fair and square. 

“Not at all, sir, but it is company policy that all familiars greater than class 4 be accompanied by their master. I simply need to check the license against its collar,” the elf said crisply. 

Keith was thoroughly embarrassed and meekly gestured Shiro over so it could bend down and let the elf check the collar. Satisfied, the elf handed back the license and bowed again. 

“Our larger stock is this way. Please follow me,” he said. 

For its part, the demon looked merely amused (and perhaps a touch disinterested) as Keith was quickly overwhelmed with styles and fabrics. Most of the larger styles were for demons, and these were all heavily adorned with chains and buckles and leather. The few items designed for angels were practically dripping with lace and gauze, and the things for fae were garishly colored and coated with beads. Talk about following stereotypes. 

“Do you have anything, uh, a little more simple?” Keith asked. He shot a glance to Shiro who had yet to show an inclination toward anything the shopkeeper presented (but then, perhaps the demon did not expect his opinion to matter). 

“Ah, an eye for the trends?” the elf smiled. “It’s becoming popular to dress familiars in Middler clothing.” He bustled off to fetch things “from the back”. 

“Anything catch your eye?” Keith asked Shiro, now that they were alone. 

Surprised to be addressed, the demon rescanned the items. He picked up a flimsy, peacock patterned bikini top and held it up.

“Do you think this will protect your yelling friend from my nipples?” he asked. 

Keith had to shove his hand over his mouth to stifle back laughter--especially since the elf returned just in time to overhear the question. He looked between them, professional smile slightly strained.

“Did you make a selection?” he asked. 

“We would like to see the other items before deciding,” Keith said as neutrally as possible.

In the end, they selected a week’s worth of underwear, two pairs of jeans, and a handful of shirts. They did not have shoes that would fit the demon’s catlike feet, and it said it didn’t need them anyway. The total rang up to over $400, and Keith gamely handed over his card.

“Master? May I have a word?” Shiro said, interrupting the transaction.

Keith raised his eyebrows in surprise but agreed and they stepped away from the register.

“You are being vilely swindled by this creature,” the demon hissed in a low whisper. “Permission to remove his head.”

“What?! No, no you may not! Do not harm him_ at all _,” Keith hissed back. “Why do you think he’s cheating me?”

“The cloth is of high quality but there is no magic in it. There is nothing to justify the exorbitant fee,” the demon insisted. “Even exceptional armor should not cost a tenth the price.”

Ah. Someone didn’t know about inflation.

“It is expensive,” Keith said, “but I can afford it. Things cost a lot more than you’re used to, I bet, but people also make more money. A loaf of bread is like five dollars, but that’s less than what people make in an hour.”

The demon’s eyebrows shot up so high they nearly left its head, but it nodded its understanding and gestured for Keith to continue the transaction. The shopkeeper loaded the purchases into bags and Keith passed them to Shiro who took them without complaint. It did not, however, wear them yet. They had been stiffly informed that “fresh” familiars (those who had not yet been washed after leaving their realms) were not allowed to try on clothes. Keith hoped they fit. He’d certainly paid enough for them.

Once outside, Keith considered how they should head back to the academy. He appreciated the demon looking out for him in regards to the price of the clothes (although it was probably just insulted that someone would try to swindle its master while it was present), and he felt sorry for it. It would no doubt hate riding the subway while weighed down by the bags. It would also probably hate being crammed into a car. Well, there was enough time in his day that he didn’t mind taking the long way back.

“Want to go for a walk?” he asked.

~*~*~

Shiro considered flying back to the academy, but based on the matter of the licensing, he suspected he was not allowed to be without his master and he had no desire to scoop up the kid _ and _the bags, so he agreed to walking. Gods. The Middlers sure knew how to make shit complicated. He mentioned it to Keith, who snorted.

“You’re telling me. If someone is capable of summoning a high class demon, they sure as hell don’t need an exam and piece of plastic to prove it first. I had to _ pay _for that license, too, and I’ll have to pay again when I get it renewed. I think it’s so they can track summoners and keep tabs on them. It’s all bullshit.”

“Pay who?” Shiro frowned. Were Middler kings taxing summons? 

“The government,” Keith shrugged. “Something about keeping the population of familiars to ‘manageable levels’. There’s a lot more Middle Realm people than there used to be, and I guess they don’t want to double the population with tons of summonings. It kinda makes sense, but it’s also stupid.” 

Well, that was one way to phrase it. 

They walked in silence and Shiro turned his attention once again to the changed world around him, searching for similarities between the Middle Realm in his memories and the one he saw in the present. Mostly what he noticed was the way people walked--everyone was more arrogant. They had a healthy respect for _ him_, of course, but there wasn't the beaten down look he used to see. The people around him all had an air of self-assured importance, like no one would challenge their right to walk through town without a fight and with their possessions in tact. No one kept their eyes entirely on the ground; no one tried to hunch in on themselves in an effort to be as invisible as possible. Well, no one but the familiars. 

He only saw two angelic familiars and a small handful of fae and, as he would have expected, these were treated with modest deference. The demon familiars, on the other hand…. These were snapped at or whistled for like they were undesired pets, and he saw a small imp get kicked for not moving fast enough. He frowned. Shiro had kicked at his share of imps, but he never would have hit something he was in a bond with. There was an agreed upon exchange, and for the duration of the bond, they were more or less equals. Plus, most of these imps could do significant physical harm to their masters if they were free. He growled quietly. Cowards.

His own master cocked his head at the growl and looked at him out of the corner of his eye but said nothing. Shiro was glad. He didn’t know how to explain his frustration. It wasn't like he cared about his fellow demons. They’d be receiving the same or worse treatment in their home realm and it’s not like a class 3 had earned a right to respect. But, there used to be a hierarchy among the natives of the Middle Realm. It had never been as distinct as the one in the demon realm, of course, but a poor man would never presume to step in front of a wealthy one. A lady would be acknowledged by a gentleman. It was almost as if everyone was _ equal_. Shiro had no idea how to operate in a realm of equals. 

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

(Of course he ended up asking him anyway.)

Shiro settled on a less nuanced approach to his confusion. “Are there not any peasants here?” Shiro asked. “No one is bowing to anyone.”

“You must not have been here for a _ long _time,” Keith said, but there was no judgment in it. “People don’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

“So...how are classes distinguished?” Shiro asked. Surely Middlers still had _ some _class hierarchy.

“There aren’t classes, or there aren’t lords and dukes and all that. Well, I mean there are in some countries,” Keith said, frowning slightly. “But people are treated equally there, regardless. Everyone is equal now.” He smiled a little at him, like he’d shared something he was proud of.

Shiro was flabbergasted. 

“How in the hells do you function?” he said. “Who is in charge?”

“We elect our representatives for our government,” Keith explained.

That sounded horrible, choosing your masters like that. If everyone voted for someone awful, you’d be stuck. Absolutely terrible. Demons could overthrow anyone if they were strong enough and no one questioned it. 

“Sounds horrible,” Shiro said, wrinkling his nose and folding his ears back. 

“But this way we don’t get stuck with a tyrant,” Keith pointed out. “It protects people from being ruled by someone who is strong but cruel.”

“Hmm,” Shiro grumbled. He watched as a tiny dragon scurried past and was shouted at by a dwarf who had nearly tripped over it. In his opinion, the dragon should have bit the dwarf, but instead the scaley beast squirmed down a drain and was gone.

“Everyone is equal,” Keith repeated, smiling encouragingly. 

“Equally disrespected,” Shiro muttered. 

The human snickered in amusement and gave him a friendly look, like Shiro had told a joke, and the demon decided to drop the conversation. If he couldn’t understand Middlers, then Middlers probably couldn’t understand him.

~*~*~

Keith was once again faced with the issue of the demon’s size. They had made it back to the academy, and he would have preferred to let the demon change right away, but how in the hells could it fit in a shower? 

“I guess you could...hose off in the backyard?” Keith offered with a grimace. It was that or a sponge bath in the main kitchen. 

Shiro shrugged. Damn, that demon was indifferent to pretty much everything, but at least it wasn't offended. 

Keith lead it back to his room where they dropped off the majority of the clothes and Keith loaded up with soap, shampoo, and towels. From there he took the two of them to the back courtyard of the academy and out to a little shed next to the greenhouse. 

“There’s probably more hoses around somewhere but I knew there was one here, so…,” Keith trailed off. The demon had already dropped his new clothes on the grass and was in the process of pulling off its loincloth.

(His.)

(_His _ loincloth.)

Holy shit. That was the biggest dick he’d ever seen, and holy fucking fuckity fuck, turns out his demon wasn't smooth under there after all. It was the norm for demons not to have genitals unless they were planning on using them in the near future, and Keith suddenly realized Shiro might be expecting _ those _types of feedings.

If Shiro noticed him staring, he didn’t comment, for which Keith was immensely grateful. He swallowed twice before turning on his heel.

“I’ll be inside when you’re done,” he squeaked, and beat a hasty retreat to the academy. All but slamming the door shut, Keith sagged against it and let a long, slow breath.

“So what’s the verdict?” Lance asked, making Keith jump. The entirety of the small school clustered around him--minus Pidge, who was peeking through the blinds for a glimpse of the demon. Keith sprang up and yanked the blinds closed.

“You are _ not _ready to see what he’s got down there,” Keith hissed. 

“Oh geez, so it’s definitely a dude?” Hunk asked.

“Rude,” Lance said, smacking the back of Hunk’s head (like he wouldn’t have asked the same question if someone else hadn’t).

“Yeah, it’s a guy, or uh, whatever it wants to be called,” Keith said, rubbed at his forehead. He was going to get a headache; he just knew it.

“The important thing is not his or its gender,” Professor Coran said primly, “but if it intends to kill us all.”

(_If _he _ intends to kill us all _, Keith thought wearily.)

“We came to terms,” Keith said. “He’s friendly enough and hasn’t been aggressive once.”

(Except in the subway when he thought I didn’t respect him and then again when he wanted to kill the shopkeeper for disrespecting me.)

“No offense, but that’s not really reassuring, dude,” Hunk said. “He’s only been here a few hours.”

“If you pay him proper respect, everything will be fine,” Keith insisted.

“Because you have _ soooo _much experience hanging out with class 9 demons,” Lance said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. He turned to Professor Coran. “Are you kicking Keith out?”

Oh shit. Keith hadn’t even considered that.

“Well no, not yet anyway,” Professor Coran said, stroking his mustache contemplatively. “Summoning a class 9 demon is a huge violation of school policy, but considering that’s far beyond Keith’s capabilities, I think it’s fair to say there’s something bigger at play. What were his terms?”

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Keith said, frowning. It wasn't fair of them to ask. It was a part of every contract that summoners and familiars kept their terms secret unless given explicit permission to the contrary. 

“I think exceptions might be made when your fellow classmates’ lives are at stake,” the elf said reasonably.

“I’m not going to risk my contract less than a day after making it!” Keith cried in disbelief. Shiro would be in his rights to drop his end of the bargain if Keith divulged that information. “And I’m not going to waste a week until my next summon,” he added, defiant. Technically, Keith could attempt a summon as often as he liked, but it took a lot of energy to do it, and one of the academy’s rules was a seven day waiting period between attempts for younger students. It was a standard protective measure, and if there was one thing Coran was never willing to compromise, it was student safety.

“I know your situation is _ delicate_,” Coran said, “but consider the consequences. Also, consider that your demon shouldn’t be here in the first place. What makes you certain you can trust him?”

Keith hesitated. To be honest, he had no fucking clue.

“Um, well, his terms were pretty reasonable, and they’re kinda time sensitive…?” Keith offered.

“My terms were for staying in the Middle Realm until I divine the date of a Middler’s reincarnation. After I learn that, our contract is ended,” Shiro said as he opened the door. “It won’t take me long.”

The Middlers all jumped in surprise, simultaneously realizing the demon had probably been eavesdropping for a longtime. Keith was shocked the demon had given up the information so readily. It was of no benefit to the demon that the academy know their terms.

“Well, ahem,” Coran said, gathering himself. “That is excellent to hear.”

Keith could tell he wasn't fully placated. After all, a class 9 demon should be able to determine a reincarnation date no matter what realm they were on. Sure, it would be easier to be in the correct realm, but _ still_.

Shiro turned back to Keith.

“We all done here?” the demon asked, bending over slightly as he twisted his still-wet hair to wring it out, water dripping on the floor. Everyone looked at the puddle and quietly decided not to make an issue of it.

“Ah, almost,” Coran said. “There is the matter of, um, of how you got here.” The elf steepled his fingers. “Our Keith is an excellent, careful summoner--” (Shiro made a noise in the back of his throat that Keith _ fucking knew _ was amusement about his lack of salt around the circle) “--and thus it is--how to phrase it?--_surprising _that a circle set for a class 1 would become occupied by a class 9. Can you shed some light on the situation for us?”

The demon huffed an amused chuckled as he carded his fingers through his long, wet hair. “You seem to be under the impression that ‘your Keith’ summoned me. He didn’t. He summoned an imp and I intercepted because I _ wanted _to.”

“But how _ can _ you be here?” Keith pressed cautiously. “I know I shouldn’t be able to summon a demon like you in the first place, and a class 9 demon shouldn’t be able to fit through the portal I made. What does it mean that you ‘intercepted’ my summons? From my perspective, it’s not just that _ I’m _ not powerful enough to summon you--there wasn't an opportunity for _ you _to come, period.” 

Summoning an imp was relatively safe if for no other reason than that a tiny portal excluded the possibility of larger classes making it in. A class 9, for lack of a better explanation, would get “stuck” if it tried. Making a hole in the realms for a creature to slip through was difficult work, but at least if you only opened a pinhole, you wouldn’t allow anything _ dangerous _to come through from the other side.

Shiro leaned forward, all grinning fangs and gleaming eyes. “You think I can’t yank a door wider when you open it a crack?” 

Keith’s eyebrows sprang up and he looked to his professor. Coran showed similar surprise on his face, but then an understanding settled in place, and he began to theorize excitedly about certain passages from the diary of the sorcerer of Alzihk’lar.

“It explains the sieve metaphor!” he said, turning to Pidge. “A wider door to let in multiple imps in a single summon--”

“--while still keeping out higher classes!” Pidge cried. 

Shiro looked nonplussed, possibly disappointed his intimidation tactic had been met with academic delight. Keith pressed back the impulse to grin.

“C’mon,” Keith said, gesturing for Shiro to follow, “I think we’re free to go.”

~*~*~

Given the strain of a summoning, the emotional stress of the subsequent arrival of a class 9 demon, and the long walk Keith had taken, he was more than a little eager to turn in early. He was, however, ridiculously hungry, so he went to the shared students’ kitchen, Shiro obediently trailing behind him. 

Keith ended up microwaving leftovers--too tired to bother with making anything fresh--and while Shiro expressed interested in the microwave, he declined offers of food.

“That’s not what I eat in this realm,” Shiro said, eyebrows raised meaningfully.

“I know you don’t need it, but some demons like it,” Keith said with a shrugging, hoping he came off as casual. Truthfully, he was terrified by the thought of feeding Shiro. He was more than prepared to offer his energy, but for an imp that would just mean brief physical touch, such as stroking their back a few times while focusing. Under no circumstances had Keith considered that the demon he summoned might feed as an incubus, and so yeah--mildly terrified.

Keith snuck furtive glances at the demon as he ate. Shiro was muscled perfection and his face was stunningly handsome, but it was hard for Keith to wrap his mind around him as a viable sexual partner. Demons and angels spent so much time as sexless beings that Keith--and many Middlers--judged their attractiveness the same way someone would admire a beautiful statue: distantly and without lust. Shiro was a gorgeous (and deadly) piece of art, nothing more. 

“Everything okay?” the demon asked, stretching. “You keep staring.”

“Oh, uh, just wondering if your clothes are comfortable,” Keith said. “They look...tight.” 

Shiro looked down at himself. “Are they not supposed to be?”

To be honest, no. If Keith were to think about Shiro as a sex partner (which he was desperately trying not to), then the clothes were downright obscene. His pants were practically painted on and they did nothing to hide his generous bulge. His shirt was stretched to the point of straining over his chest, and the points of his nipples were clearly visible. Keith had the wild thought that Shiro had looked more chaste when he was in his loincloth.

“If you like them, that’s fine,” Keith said, looking away quickly. He had definitely been staring.

“Don’t really like how it feels to something around the base of my tail, but I’ll get used to it,” Shiro said, shifting in his chair. “The rest is fine.”

(_Hella fine _, Keith’s mind suggested.)

(_Shut up _, Keith suggested back.)

“That’s good then,” Keith said, shoveling food in his mouth. 

Shiro studied him for a moment. “You’re nervous,” he announced, cocking his head. 

“Today’s been crazy,” Keith said, stabbing at his food with perhaps too much force.

The demon chuckled. “You’re handling it well.”

Keith could not decide if that was sarcasm, but he elected against clarifying.

Shiro continued to study and then, to Keith’s surprise, he dropped one large hand onto Keith’s head for a gentle pat. “Don’t stress about feeding me, little master. I know you’re tired, and I don’t need it anyway.”

Keith’s cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment. He’d been caught. He nodded gratefully and said nothing, keeping his attention on his nearly empty plate. 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna go to bed after this,” he said. “Did you want to sleep…? You can take my room and I’ll sleep on a couch, or--”

Shiro’s chuckle interrupted him. “I haven’t slept in years. You rest up and don’t worry about me. I’ll stay on the property.”

Keith let out a sigh of relief without meaning to. He couldn’t believe how considerate a class 9 demon was being to him, especially since Shiro had spent the first part of the day fairly annoyed. 

“Thank you,” Keith said sincerely. “I’m gonna go sleep now. See you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well,” Shiro said, a little smile on the demon’s lips.

~*~*~

Despite his size, Shiro could move silently when he wished, and he was able to avoid the other occupants of the academy as he made his way back outside. He pulled off his shirt, stretched, and let out his wings, flapping them twice before rising into the air and settling on the academy’s roof. It was shaping up to be a pleasant evening, the air cool and the breeze calm. 

Shiro tilted back his head, closed his eyes, and sighed as he breathed deep. The city did not stink, exactly, but it was filled to the brim with scents and that was frustrating. He focused instead on the hum of magic, evaluating the safety of the academy. Passable.

The demon watched the city turn to night. It was darker now than during the day--a blessing for his poor eyes that had spent hundreds of years in the relative dark of the demonic realm--but the city was still peppered with artificial light. It was probably beautiful. Shiro didn’t like it.

The Middle Realm he saw before him meshed poorly with his memories. He remembered Middlers bedding down quietly for the night to the sounds of distant forest beasts and chirping crickets. Now he heard the screeching and honking of cars and some kind of false music that resembled nothing he’d encountered in any realm. It was abrasive, and he flattened his ears.

No demon could truly love the Middle Realm more than their own, not with its harsh sun and watchful moons. But, Shiro had enjoyed his last visit. He’d expected to enjoy this one. Instead, he was confused.

Shiro had once overheard a few demons talking about the advancements in magic in the Middle Realm. The comments had been derisive, suggesting that Middlers had gotten lazy and unskilled. Shiro now suspected that this was unfair--the problem felt larger than that. The magic he sensed was less skillfully woven to be sure, but there was also less of it in general. Of course, if no one ever needed to learn a light charm because their house already lit up on its own, it made sense that fewer people would bother cultivating skills. But, it felt more like there was a lack of magic to begin with. It felt like a drought. 

Keith had spoken of residual magic like it was a distraction. That was made no sense. Sure, lots of people casting spells in the same area would leave a bit of an echo or ripple effect, but there should always be _ some _residual magic, period. The earth created it. Once upon a time, the realm itself would renew a ward, but that time had clearly passed. Maybe, since Middlers no longer needed as much magic, they had let the leylines go unused, let them get clogged and polluted and dry up. It made him sad. The Middle Realm’s soft, thin layer of base magic had always felt nice. It has also been damn useful.

Shiro blew out his breath in another sigh. Well, he hadn’t come to the Middle Realm to have a vacation, and while he didn’t think he’d enjoy the realm itself, he did like his new host. Keith was a curious creature. He seemed competent enough and while his sense of hierarchy was confusing, Shiro could tell he was honorable. He’d kept his silence over their terms, after all, even when all the other Middlers had pushed him. He also checked with Shiro regarding his comfort even over inconsequential matters. It was...polite. Not pandering, just polite.

(It didn’t hurt that he smelled good. Great, even.)

Yes, Keith was a nice kid--nice enough that Shiro almost felt for having lied about his former hostbond.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has soooo much world lore and I’m fucking living.
> 
> A cupboard witch is an insulting term for a witch or other magic user who doesn’t have much skill--all their tomes and reagents could fit in a single cupboard. 
> 
> Shiro looks a lot like galra!Shiro. X3 He is purple/grey with the fuzzy ears. <3333 His hind legs are kinda kitty-like and he has a tail. His “monster” form is like a lion with horns. He does not have fur overall when in humanoid form; it’s just his ears. Tail is like Hellboy’s. He has long black hair with the white stripe and he does have the nose scar. Not sure yet how many other scars. 
> 
> There are several realms (haven’t decided how many, lol). The Middle Realm is Earth. Demons have their own realm and most can’t reach the Middle without being summoned or someone opening a portal. Demons can’t stay in the Middle for very long without feeding off some form of energy from the Middle Realm or they’ll get exhausted and die. It’s dangerous for demons to be in the Middle without a bond for that reason, but it’s also dangerous for humans, elves, dwarves, etc to have unbonded demons because those ones can attack people. It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. 
> 
> Realms I have decided on: angelic, fae, and demonic (and of course the Middle). The Middle Realm used to be uninhabited and it was the neutral territory that the other races would meet at. The other faces couldn’t stay there indefinitely as it did drain their energy, but they discovered that if they interbred, their children could live there, and some left their children behind. Those children evolved into the races that now live on the Middle Realm.
> 
> A demon as powerful as Shiro can pass through realms at will but it does use up a lot of energy so it’s not safe/wise, especially if they don’t have a way to protect themselves in the new realm. 
> 
> Usually, demons can’t lie to their summoner/master. But, a demon with a high enough class can. Shiro WAY outclasses Keith, so lying doesn’t have any negative consequences (physically) for him at all. 
> 
> A master is a summoner who has a bound familiar, btw, and a familiar is a bound creature they summoned from another realm. Masters are also called bondhosts or just hosts.
> 
> Demons don’t really have genders, but they usually select one when they’re going to be in the Middle for a long time. They don’t excrete at all, so they’re kind of blank down there (like Ken dolls lol) when they’re in the demon realm. They will have some kind of fun bits if they want to, though, but if they’re not mating with anything sometimes they just go smooth because it’s easier. 
> 
> I made Shiro a “yokai” because he’s Japanese and that’s one of their demons. For the purposes of this fic, yokai are a type of demon that has a humanoid form and at least one beast form. They’re basically warrior shapeshifters.
> 
> Is it a good or bad sign that I have this long of notes on the first chapter? :^;


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A big ol' fat chapter in which Shiro realizes he is expensive, the market is visited, and smut is had, and not necessarily in that order.

It did not surprise Keith that he had nightmares that night. He often had strange and frightening dreams involving demons stalking him through the city as time sped up, the date of his birthday mere moments away. What did surprise Keith was that the dreams were not completely unpleasant. Shiro had been there, watching the whole thing, and he had given Keith a gorgeous, tender smile while explaining that he should have used more salt. Keith woke up blushing (rather than in a sweat-soaked terror), wondering where in the hells he’d gotten the idea that the moody demon could smile like that.

He crawled out of bed and headed to his bathroom--noticing only after his hair was wet that his shampoo and soap were still out by the hose where he’d left them with Shiro. Fuck it. He wasn't that dirty anyway. 

Freshly toweled and clothed, Keith stepped out of his room and promptly encountered Hunk (all but cowering in the far end of the lounge), Lance (hovering suspiciously near the table), and Pidge (sitting across from Shiro vainly attempting to engage him in more than one word answers). For his part, the demon was tolerating the humans well, apparently content to sit and wait for his master. 

“Uh, hi guys,” Keith said. 

“Good morning, little master,” Shiro grinned, his smile full of fangs and nothing friendly. 

“Keith, make your demon tell me if Jekboth the Younger’s theory on fading runes was correct,” Pidge said, barely remembering to tag a “good morning” on the end of her request.

“He’s not demon Google, Pidge,” Lance said, eyes narrowed, “and you couldn’t trust his answers even if he were.”

“I can’t make Shiro answer that, sorry,” Keith said, rubbing his temples. It was way too early for this. “Did you ask nicely?”

“I said ‘please’,” Pidge said, pouting as she tapped on her tablet. 

“And I told her she should bow a  _ lot _ ,” Hunk said from his corner of the room. He was seated on the edge of the furthest couch, his plate of breakfast balanced on his knees. “And maybe not ask the super powerful demon a bunch of questions first thing in the morning.”

“This might be my only chance  _ ever  _ to talk to a class 9,” Pidge protested. “The magical sciences demand I ask questions.” 

The demon’s tail had started to twitch and Keith decided it was best to move things along. 

“Right. Well, Shiro and I are going to the demon market today, so we’re gonna head out now,” Keith announced. 

“Seriously?” Pidge asked, incredulous. “Which one?”

“What do you mean which one?” Keith frowned. “Obviously the closest one.”

“I don’t think you can leave the province without registering any summon above a class 5,” Pidge said, tapping her tablet before nodding confirmation. 

Keith smacked his forehead so hard he grimaced. “Fine. Where the hells is the  _ next  _ closest one?”

Coran’s Academy of Practical Witchery was located in the city of New Waterton which was snuggled up on the border of the Dwimmer and Regence provinces. The closest demon market was a quick train ride of 45 minutes outside the city limits. The second closest demon market was located on the far side of Dwimmer--a lovely little jaunt of 6 hours by train. 

Keith cursed as he fished out his phone and searched train schedules. He was definitely going to have to pay for a motel room. Dammit. The tickets weren’t going to be cheap, either. Well, there would be no point in saving money if he didn’t live past 19 to spend it. He grimaced as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“Right. So, I’m going to repack,” he said. He ducked back in his room and weighed the idea of grabbing his duffel bag. He had put a few things for trading in his backpack and he decided to just keep that since he didn’t want to carry two bags through the demon market--no way would Shiro consent to help him carry stuff with that many demons watching. He shoved in a change of clothes for himself and for Shiro and went to get his toiletries, remembering at the last minute that half of the things he needed were still outside. Great.

There was a knock and Keith turned around to see Shiro peeking in through his door. “Did you need these?” he said, offering Keith’s shampoo and soap.

“Oh, thanks,” Keith said, surprised that the demon had gone to collect the items after the fact. He added them to his backpack, swung it on, and was ready.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro did not like trains. He would admit they were far superior to subways, but that was a very low bar (trains were still too small, but at least they had windows). Trains were also more comfortable, or rather, the person Keith bought tickets from had required they ride “1st class” as Shiro was too large to fit in the other chairs properly, and there was some kind of “bureaucratic safety bullshit” (Keith’s words) about his shoulders sticking out in the aisle. 

“If I’m a class 9, why are we in 1st class?” Shiro asked. 

Keith--who had been frowning at his phone(?)--looked up. “Not the same thing. First class for planes and trains and stuff just means you paid more for more leg room and better service. It doesn’t have anything to do with summons.”

“It does if you’re big enough,” Shiro pointed out, getting a half smile for his efforts.

“You’re a yokai, right? Let me guess--your beast form is even larger,” Keith said, putting down the phone. 

Shiro grinned. “Much.”

Keith smiled and shook his head. “Still can’t believe I summoned a class 9--or I guess, summoned a class 1 and ended up with a class 9,” he said before Shiro could correct him.

It would be a cold day in the tenth hell before someone of his master’s skills could summon  _ him _ .

“Sorry for the trouble,” Shiro said, only half-teasing. 

Keith waved his hand vaguely. “I’m used to it. Magic guidelines are crazy. We’ll still need to get you registered in case we need to leave the province for your half of the terms,” he added, more to himself than Shiro. 

Shiro wondered if registering him would have a fee (probably). Altogether, it seemed like his presence was costing his master considerably more than the young summoner had expected. Shiro was disinclined to feel bad about it--the man had agreed to terms--but it was not something he had considered when he strode into the Middle Realm. He did not require shelter or clothing or sustenance other than what a summoner could easily provide without taxing their body. It had not occurred to him that he might be an expensive inconvenience. It was not a comfortable realization. 

The demon glanced around the 1st class compartment. There were only two other summons--both fae, probably class 7--and their masters were obviously wealthier than his own. 

Yup. He was a burden.

Perhaps he should see if he could do a little more to earn his keep while at the market. His little master was considerate toward him, after all.

“What are you getting at the market?” he asked.

Keith, who had returned to his phone, handed it over. “About 10 grams of that, if I can find that much,” he said.

Shiro whistled low. “Blackmoss crystals. You’re ambitious,” he said as he handed back the phone. 

Keith sighed wearily. “Yeah. I knew the local demon market pretty well--I went there with my grandma a few times when I was younger--so I know there is a supplier there. I’ve been trying to find information on this other market but, big surprise, demons don’t list their semi-illegal activities online.”

Shiro didn’t know what that meant, but he nodded anyway. Demons didn’t do shit. 

“What are you going to trade for it?” Shiro asked. 

Keith reached for his backpack and handed it over. “Pretty much anything in there that they’ll take.”

Shiro peered in curiously. He had sensed something interesting and had wanted to look in it earlier, but he wasn't in the habit of asking anyone for anything, ever, so he’d refrained. 

“Oh. This will do it,” Shiro said, pulling out a knife almost reverently. It was a beautifully crafted blade made of the highest quality luxite. It was worth an incredible amount just as a base weapon, but the intricate symbols carved into it meant it could actually be used to summon other types of weapons and transform into them. A blade like this could be connected to ancient swords, lost to time. It was worth thousands of Blackmoss crystals.

“That’s mine,” Keith said stiffly. “It’s a family heirloom.” 

Shiro looked up at the human and noticed the almost anxious twitch of his hand. He didn’t like Shiro touching it, apparently. He didn’t blame him. 

“Looks like you don’t need me for protection,” Shiro said lightly. Keith would still want a demon summon to help him identify rare magics or spells--and to make sure he didn’t purchase a counterfeit--but there weren’t many demons who would be eager to tangle with the owner of that blade. 

Keith’s shoulders lost some of their tension as Shiro replaced the knife and looked through the rest of the pack. Fae moonstones, angelics runes, a few pre-cast spells preserved in stones or bottles. Standard supplies that were easier for a Middler to get their hands on than for a demon. He closed the bag.

“Was this all you had to offer?” he asked as neutrally as possible. 

“That and energy,” Keith said.

Huh. That didn’t sit well. A summoner wasn't obligated to give their energy to only their summon, but it hadn’t occurred to Shiro that he wouldn’t be the only one with access to his master. It rankled him slightly, even though it wasn't his business. It was a good idea as a trade, though. Any demon living in the market was doing so without a summoner--mostly demons that had finished their terms but hadn’t wished to be sent back home--and would be eager to consume whatever energy they could in order to extend their stay in the Middle Realm. Depending on how much energy Keith could produce, that was a very good bargaining chip. 

“I will be fed first, of course,” Shiro said mildly, handing back the bag. 

Keith stiffened again. “Of course,” he said. 

Shiro observed Keith carefully as the human tucked away his backpack. Was he worried that Shiro would take too much…?

“I don’t require much. Being in the Middle Realm is slightly unpleasant, but I don’t need your energy to repair any damage from being here. I do, however, need some energy from this realm in order to boost my abilities for divination,” he explained. He would want to taste the wonderful smelling human anyway, but his desire to indulge was not merely for luxury or comfort. His previous attempts to divine the reincarnation while in the demon realm had yielded very broadspanning results, only letting him know that the soul he sought would be born within a roughly 100 year timespan. 

Keith relaxed only minutely. Maybe he was worried about the act of feeding itself.

“Have you never fed a summon before?” Shiro asked. 

“No,” Keith admitted hesitantly. “I’ve summoned weapons through my blade before, but you’re the first creature I’ve summoned.” 

“And a class 9 on your first try,” Shiro laughed. “Well, do not worry little master--I can assure you that feeding me will not hurt. In fact, I will insist upon it being  _ very  _ pleasant.”

Keith blushed. Shiro’s ears perked up. Oh--so  _ that  _ was the problem. Shiro smirked, incredibly pleased.

“So you’re shy,” he said, eyes bright. This was too fun. 

The human blushed harder and muttered something about how it “wouldn’t have matter with a class 1” and that just made the demon laugh again. 

“I promise it will be very enjoyable,” Shiro purred, his tail running teasingly down Keith’s leg, prompting Keith to bat it away.

“Can we talk about that later?” he said. “As in, when we’re not in public?”

“Not an exhibitionist, mm? Too bad. Whatever makes you happy,” Shiro winked. 

Keith blushed again, declared himself ready for a nap, and stretched out, turning his back on the demon. Shiro chuckled. This was going to be so much fun.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith only managed a short nap, in part because he was stressed for half a dozen reasons and in part because everytime he fell asleep, he started to dream that Shiro’s tail was wandering higher up his leg. The fifth time he jolted awake, he gave up on lying back down. The demon appeared to be innocent, having migrated to the window. 

“Has it changed since you were here?” Keith asked him. 

Shiro didn’t turn but his ears swivelled in Keith’s direction. “Yes,” he said. “There’s more houses.” 

“Any other changes?” Keith tried, scooting closer to look out as well. They were passing farm land, the fields rolling with golden hay. From a distance, it looked soft and beautiful. Keith knew from experience that it was stiff, prickly, and disappointing. 

“The land is quieter.”

That Keith had not expected.

“What does that mean?” 

Shiro shrugged and turned away from the window. “The Middle Realm had a kind of hum the last time I was here. It was from the leylines, I think, and I could hear the magic of the world when I listened for it. I was wondering if it was just because we were in the city, but the land is quiet out here, too.”

There were worrying implications in that. A high class demon--or fae, or angel, or anything really--should be more sensitive to the realm over time, not less, so if Shiro didn’t sense the same level of magic as he used to, it meant the Middle Realm had diminished somehow.

Shiro cocked his head and gave Keith a half smile. “It’s nothing to worry about, little master. I just happened to notice it.”

“But that means there’s less magic,” Keith protested. “That’s obviously a bad thing.”

“It just means it’s somewhere else,” Shiro said. “Magic doesn’t get used up.” 

“But where else could it be?” Keith frowned. This was sounding like a governmental conspiracy. 

The demon shrugged again. “Literally anywhere. Powerful objects and powerful people gather magic naturally. If no one cares for the leylines, then the magic will get stuck--unless someone manually moves it, of course. Didn’t you guys used to have druids and whatnot? Priests of some kind?”

“We did,” Keith said thoughtfully. “I don’t think anyone has practiced the old religions for hundreds of years, though.” The magical fiber of the world itself was choked, if Shiro was correct. Gods above. And people barely cared about pollution. “This is a huge deal. I’m shocked no one’s said anything.” 

“Why would they?” Shiro asked. “You guys have more than enough magic for what you’re doing, and apparently you guys don’t use much magic anymore anyways. Focus on your electricity wires or whatever.” 

Keith snorted. That was such a quintessential demonic attitude, and he said as much.

“What should I do? Worry like a Middler? No thanks,” Shiro grinned. 

Well, he had a point. It  _ was  _ a big deal, but it wouldn’t do Keith any good to worry about it. He might not make it the end of the year anyway. Might as well leave the big picture things to Pidge and the Professor, and keep himself focused on his immediate future--

Probable sex with a demon.

Yup. Not feeling better at all.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“He’s quieter and less messy than a class 1--the only thing that might be a problem is that he’s bigger,” Keith said, civil tone maintained through sheer willpower. This was the fifth hotel he’d called, and he was definitely regretting agreeing to terms with Shiro. No summon was worth this much effort. He should have released him and tried again next week. 

“I’m sorry sir,” the woman said, sounding not the slightest bit sorry, “but we don’t house summons over class 6. It’s policy.” 

Further arguing would just take up the woman’s time, and while Keith knew the policy was neither her fault nor her decision, he felt like arguing anyway. Instead, he gritted his teeth, thanked her, and hung up. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pinching his brow. 

“Was that the last one?” Shiro asked, cocking his head.

“No,” Keith sighed. There was one more place he could try--and naturally it was a luxury hotel. Dutifully, he typed in the number. Five minutes later he had a confirmed reservation, courtesy of a $500 damage deposit. 

Gods. Fucking. Dammit. 

At least that was one expense he had a hope of keeping. 

“We’ve got a room,” Keith announced. “Please don’t kill anyone while we’re there.”

“Why do you need me to stay in the room with you? I don’t sleep. I’m fine with waiting outside,” Shiro offered. 

“Can’t leave you ‘unattended in public’,” Keith said miserably. He checked the distance from the train station to the hotel, cursed inwardly, and began the likely fruitless task of hiring a taxi. As he suspected, the answer was “in accordance with safety regulations and company policy” they could not “offer transport to a summons of that size”. 

Bullshit. 

“I could always jog along side,” Shiro suggested, grinning wide. 

Keith snorted. “They’d probably fine me for obstructing traffic,” he said, but he couldn’t help smiling. “Any chance you’re willing to carry the backpack for me? It’s got your stuff in there, too.”

Instead of answering, Shiro stepped off the curb and into traffic, directly in front of a taxi. It screeched to a halt, managing to stop in large part because the demon put out his hands and caught it. 

Shiro casually walked around to the driver’s side and tapped on the window. The terrified cabby rolled it down an inch.

“Y-yes?” he asked.

“Hi,” Shiro grinned, fangs exposed. “My master and I would like a ride.” 

Keith’s mouth gaped open. He should probably put a stop to this, but he felt every bit as stunned as the poor cabby. 

“I-I don’t think you’ll fit, sir,” the man sputtered. 

“That’s what he said,” the demon winked. “Trust me--I  _ always  _ make things fit.” 

Keith’s jaw could not have dropped any further.

Shiro sauntered to the backdoor and waiting meaningfully for the cabby to unlock it. He maneuvered himself inside, head nearly ducked to his knees in order to accommodate his horns. “Come along, little master,” he called cheerfully. “The nice man is going to take us.”

Keith shut his mouth and crawled in next to his familiar. “Parkway Hotel, please,” he informed the cabby, sounding as collected as possible. He was wedged next to Shiro, thigh to thigh, and he was absolutely certain the demon’s tail ended up in his lap on purpose.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“That was fun,” Shiro announced cheerfully when they finally entered their room.

Keith disagreed. Strongly.

“I hope I never have that much fun again,” he said, slinging off his backpack. He paused. “Thank you. For getting the cab. People are ridiculous when it comes to high level summons.”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “Aren’t you the one being ridiculous?”

What. The hells. 

“I’m sorry?” Keith said icily. He’d put up with bullshit from every single person he’d talked to today and he’d reached his gods damned limit.

“I’m a class 9 demon, Keith. They’re afraid of me. You should be, too. Actually, you should be  _ more  _ afraid of me than they are. They’re afraid because I’m powerful and could hurt them, but as far as they know, I keep my terms. You know I haven’t in the past. So, what makes you so trusting of me?”

Shiro said it all so mildly, like Keith was an interesting aberration, a minor curiosity. He was nothing more to Shiro than a small point of amusement in a boring world. It pissed him off, but it was also a really good point. He had less reason to trust Shiro than anyone they’d met, and yet…

“I know you don’t kill me,” Keith said hesitantly. It was not a good enough reason (and it also might not be true). 

“I could tear off your limbs and cauterize the wounds instantly. I wouldn’t be the one to kill you, but somehow I think you’d still be pretty upset at me. I’m  _ dangerous _ , Keith.”

Keith opened his mouth and then closed it. He was reckless--he was always reckless--but damned if this wasn't the worst explain yet.

“Let me summarize: no salt while summoning--even though it was for your first familiar-- and you’re not afraid of me, and you already know who is going to kill you. I’ve known you for one day, little master.  _ One  _ day. The Middle Realm has ridiculous rules, I’ll give you that, but I think it’s fair to say you’re the crazy one here. Hey, hey,” he said softly, “lose the frown.” He leaned down, touching his nose briefly to Keith’s forehead. “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Keith was stunned. He knew fuck all about demonic relationships (sexual, domestic, or otherwise), but he knew a gesture of affection when he saw one. Shiro  _ liked  _ him. 

Shiro noted his shock and chuckled. “Don’t be so surprised. I’ve been killing time for a thousand years, waiting on a reincarnation; I’m more than a little pleased to have met someone interesting.”

For some reason, that made Keith blush. “Why would it take someone that long to reincarnate?”

Shiro shrugged. “That’s what I’ve been wondering.”

“Sounds like a real asshole, making you wait that long,” Keith said. 

Shiro frowned. “Maybe,” he said. 

Keith had not been serious, but he didn’t feel comfortable explaining himself (and it hadn’t been a good joke in the first place), so he decided to excuse himself to shower. He still needed to feed Shiro, after all, and he damn well needed some alone time to pull himself together.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


It wasn't until he was in the shower that Keith realized just how swanky his accommodations truly were. The shower was huge and had a frankly intimidating number of jets and control settings. He gave up on understanding the panel and figured overhead and hot was more than sufficient. 

Gods. What a fucking terrible day. Everything with Shiro was costing stupid amounts of money and, on the chance that Keith  _ did  _ die on his next birthday, he wanted to leave as munch money behind for his grandmother as he could. Wasting it on stupid fees irked him more than he could articulate, and frankly all he wanted to do was faceplant on the bed and find out if the mattress was worth the price of the room. But nope! Still had to feed a demon, and--

Oh. Oh shit.

He had to feed Shiro. And he’d just fucking gone to shower. Shiro probably thought he was prepping. Holy fuck. Keith hadn’t even considered they might go  _ that  _ far. What if he insisted on it? What if the demon said that was the only way he could be fed? Fuck fuck fuck and he’d just fucking warned him, too, that he was fucking dangerous and godsfuckingdamnitall.

Keith bent over, gasping hard. This was not acceptable. He was not going to have a panic attack over something that hadn’t happened and probably wasn't going to happen. Shiro had been nothing but accommodating so far--why would that change now? If Keith said “blow jobs only, please” or whatever, he’d say yes. 

Probably.

Shaking a little, Keith resumed his shower. He was being ridiculous. What did it matter anyway? Keith had no plans for his virginity. He literally didn’t care about it at all--just like he didn’t care about dating or friends or a career or any bullshit except maybe getting to live past his 20th birthday and, failing that, leaving something behind for his grandmother. None of it mattered if he didn’t live anyway, and if he did? Well. His life could start then. 

Keith scrubbed harder. So what if he didn’t want to have sex with a demon. That was something people with super kinks did, and probably summoners with specific needs. It was weird. And Shiro had a fucking gigantic dick, and Keith might be a reckless idiot, but he wasn't dumb enough to think  _ that  _ wouldn’t hurt.

He was thoroughly annoyed with himself by the time he’d finished rinsing. In the grand scheme of things, getting his dick consensually sucked by a demon was nothing. Besides, Shiro was probably phenomenal at it. 

Finished and dried, Keith wrapped his towel around his waist, squared his shoulders, and took a deep breath. 

“Okay,” he said, “let’s do this.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro noted a moment of distress while his master was “showering” (a form of bathing?), and he focused his senses on the bathroom. There was no other entity and no surge of magic; apparently the human was distressing himself. Poor thing. Well, he would be feeling better shortly. Shiro would make sure of it.

He was getting excited. The little master smelled wonderful and he was beautiful--it would be no hardship to bring him to pleasure. Shiro’s tail twitched as he paced, eager to begin. The door to the bathroom opened and Shiro turned around, ears perking up. Keith’s hands were balled into fists and he was glaring at the demon with determination and something close to defiance. Shiro blinked, confused. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

Keith straightened up. “I’m fine. How is this going to work?”

Shiro was tempted to take the human at his word, but his body language was still radiating tension. 

“I will feed from your energy after you orgasm. We can get your orgasm however you feel comfortable,” Shiro explained. He watched Keith’s face, reading his sharp focus as the human processed what was said. “I told you: it’s whatever makes you happy. If you don’t enjoy this, then I won’t either. Period.”

“Even if I don’t want to do anything at all?” Keith squeaked.

The demon’s ears drooped, but he nodded. He wanted very much to do  _ something _ , but if there was nothing the human would enjoy, than he’d have to content himself with basic feeding, even though that was far less potent.

“Good,” Keith said, shoulders sagging in relief. Shiro’s disappointment must have shown because Keith started to apologize. “I’m sorry. I-it’s not that we can’t do anything, but--”

“But I’m a demon,” Shiro said bluntly. Some Middlers only mated with their own species, and very few mated with demons. 

Keith looked surprised. “It’s not that! Well, I mean, that does factor into it, but mostly it’s just...I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m already worried about having enough energy for tomorrow, and--”

“Enough energy?” Shiro interrupted again. “How much energy are you planning to share?”

“As much as I have to,” the human said, lifting his chin defiantly. He really was reckless. “I know I’m still recovering from summoning you, but I’ll give every ounce I have left. I promise I’ll feed you more later, but right now, I need to conserve what I can, so it won’t be very much.”

Shiro’s eyebrows shot up. Was this an excuse, or did the human really not know? “You recovered your energy from summoning me less than an hour after our binding. You’re fine.”

Keith looked genuinely confused. “But, it was my first binding. I can’t be recovered that quickly.”

“How many years have you been summoning weapons?” Shiro asked pointedly. 

Understanding crossed the human’s face. “Ah.”

“I could probably drain you and you’d be back to full tomorrow,” Shiro assured him, “not that I am going to, so wipe that worried expression off your face.”

Keith looked appropriately embarrassed. “I’ve been summoning weapons since I was a kid, and I practice with them almost every day,” he admitted. “I guess that  _ would  _ train my energy to replenish quickly.” 

“How did you not know?” Shiro asked.

“Weapon summoning from my blade isn’t a big deal. It’s been in my family for generations, so of course it’s easy for me,” Keith explained. “I didn’t think it would translate to other kinds of summoning, though.”

“It wouldn’t, not directly. It just meant you learned to recover faster, but I’m shocked you didn’t notice.”

“Well, I never had a chance to test it out before, now did I?” Keith said, crossing his arms and pouting a little.

Shiro kept back a smile. Indeed, if the human hadn’t summoned anything but a weapon he was bound to by family blood before yesterday, he might not have known his energy would drain and recover in the same way. His indignation on the matter was very cute, though. 

“I suppose not,” Shiro said as gravely as possibly.

Keith seemed to sense he was being made fun of and scowled. “ _ Anyway _ , what did you have in mind? For the energy. That is, um, how much do you need?”

“ As I said, I don’t require any to stay here comfortably, but I wasn't make progress with my divinations while in the demon realm. Energy from the Middle Realm will help with my divination, but I do not require all of it immediately. Small amounts spread out over a few months will suffice,” Shiro said. 

Keith nodded, considering. “And how exactly does this work?”   
  


“I do not need to be directly involved except to touch your skin while you are pleasured. If you wish to pleasure yourself, that is fine--I only need to gather the energy produced; I do not need to cause it,” Shiro explained. He wished he could lie and say that he needed to actively participate--he very much wanted to actively participate--but that was simply not the case, and he would get the best and cleanest energy from however Keith was most comfortable. Other demons might prefer energy caused by fear or pain or anger, but not Shiro. Each to their own. He wanted pleasure.

“Okay,” Keith said, evidently having made up his mind. “Go sit on the bed, back to the wall, and spread your legs.”

Oh?? This was promising. 

Shiro obeyed eagerly and the human promptly sat down, back to Shiro’s chest, and leaned against him. 

Oh. Shiro was a glorified pillow. Wonderful.

“Close your eyes, please,” Keith said. 

Shiro tried not to grumble and did as he was told. He heard the sound of Keith’s towel being removed and then, to his pleasant surprise, found Keith guiding his hands to rest on Keith’s hips.

“That enough skin contact?” Keith asked. 

Shiro grinned. His hands so near the action? Better than expected. “Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll keep them there.”

Keith made a small noise of confirmation and presently, Shiro felt a gentle, delicious tingle form on Keith’s skin. He could hear the sound of skin on skin as the human began to touch himself, and the pleasure-tinged energy was delicious beneath his hands. He hummed appreciatively and relaxed his head forward, letting his forehead rest against Keith’s hair. 

“Feeling good already?” Keith asked, a little breathless.

“Mmhmm,” Shiro affirmed, fingers stroking but not straying from the approved territory. “Knew you’d taste good from the moment I smelled you.”

“You, ah, can taste me?” 

“More or less,” Shiro said. There was not an easier way to describe it. He hummed again, feeling the human’s heartbeat speed up beneath his fingers. 

“What do I taste like?”

“Warm. Soft.”  _ Safe _ , but Shiro didn’t know what to make of that and kept it to himself. 

Keith snorted. “That’s just how skin feels,” he said. 

“I could tell you better if I got my mouth on you,” Shiro teased. He inhaled. “I already know I’ll be addicted to you. Just sitting like this with you is so good, Keith.” He heard the human’s voice hitch. Ah--he liked to be talked to. Shiro grinned and bent down to whisper in his ear. “I’d keep you in my mouth for hours if you let me, just let you lie on my tongue if that’s all you wanted. I’d suck you off and swallow you down and wait so obediently for you to let me do it again.”

A tiny whine escaped the human’s lips. Shiro held his hips firmly, making him squirm uselessly. 

“Maybe you’d rather I keep going--not let you rest. I could fuck you with my tongue while I touch you, make you come again and again, switching where my mouth takes you next and keeping your ass ready for me with my fingers. Mm, I can  _ feel  _ you liking that, little master. You like thinking of something nice and thick inside you?”

“Yes,” Keith whispered. 

Shiro felt Keith’s energy blossoming under his fingers. “That’s it, little master. Just a little more,” he encouraged.

A few desperate gasps and the human came, flooding with the most delicious, tantalizing energy. Shiro groaned, rubbing his hands cautiously along Keith’s sides, fearful of going too far but unable to keep still when Keith’s energy was flowing off him so sweet and free. 

“ _ Gods _ , Keith,” he said reverently. 

“Did you want…?” the human said hesitantly, turning in Shiro’s arms.

“Hmm?” Shiro asked, opening his eyes. Keith was offering his cum-coated hand for Shiro to lick.  _ Fuck _ . 

Shiro groaned as he savored cleaning his master’s hand, taking time to thoroughly lick and suck each finger. 

“Delicious,” he said when at last he pulled back. “You are magnificent, little master.”

Keith blushed lightly. “So it was okay to do just that then?”

Shiro smiled and touched his nose to the human’s forehead. “More than. But,” he added with a wink, “if you would like to try any of my... _ suggestions _ , do let me know.”

Keith’s blush grew. “Will do,” he coughed. 

And still pleasure flowed off his skin. The human would learn to come to him, Shiro knew. He was content to wait.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith’s dream that night was exactly what he expected: anxiety over the demon market. In the dream, he tried and failed to locate the market, following wilder and wilder directions from both the internet and the locals. Shiro began tapping on his arm, slowly and intermittently, until Keith finally asked him what he wanted, and the demon explained that it was Sunday in the demonic realm (however the hells that worked in a realm without a sun), so the market would be closed anyway.

Keith sighed so hard he woke up.

He immediately discovered the source of the “tapping”--Shiro’s tail. The demon was sprawled on his stomach, ears forward and tail twitching, the very picture of a cat focused on prey. He was on Keith’s phone, eyes riveted on the screen. Keith had shown the demon the basics of phone usage so he had something to do while Keith slept, and Shiro apparently hadn’t moved since.

Keith yawned. “What time is it?”

“Pre-dawn,” Shiro said without looking up.

(Helpful.)

“You still playing Candy Craze Maze?” Keith asked, rubbing at his eyes. 

“Yup,” Shiro said. He glanced away from the screen, eyes bright with pride. “Level three,” he announced, grinning.

Keith kept his face carefully blank as he nodded acknowledgement of Shiro’s achievement. Only three levels in five hours? Wow.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, Keith took another shower and then watched TV (which intrigued the demon but not quite enough to pull him from the clutches of his game) until it was a reasonable hour and he could eat the hotel’s free breakfast. Naturally, Shiro had to accompany him (no leaving class 6 or higher demons unaccompanied in rooms, of course), and the demon spent the meal on the phone. 

Keith had created an addict.

Having learned his lesson the day before, Keith declined to inform the taxi service ahead of time that he had Shiro in tow, and the demon looked up from his phone long enough to growl until the poor cabbie agreed to take them to the market.

“So are you two looking for anything in particular?” the cabbie asked in a weak attempt at engaging his customers.

“Level four!” Shiro shouted in triumph, unwittingly silencing further conversation with the driver.

“That’s a good stopping point for now,” Keith said. “Need to save some battery for later. You can play with it on the train.”

To Keith’s surprise, the demon surrendered the phone without complaint. He stretched (or rather, squirmed in an approximation of a stretch due to the cramped nature of the cab).

“Hey Keith, if you didn’t know you already had the rest of your energy back, why were you willing to trade the rest of it at the demon market? Why not just wait a week or however long until you were fully recharged?” He sounded mildly curious, which coming from him was a big deal. 

Keith chewed his lip and debated how much of the truth to share. There wasn't a benefit to hiding it, exactly, but telling a demon more about your personal life than you needed to wasn't considered good practice. But then, Shiro was probably going to figure most of it out anyway if he was around for another few months--and obviously Keith wasn't known for his caution.

“I lied, kinda. I don’t know the name of person who kills me. I know the date that a demon will kill me, or try to kill me. The fate reading wasn't clear.”

Shiro nodded thoughtfully. “So, you’re going to conduct spells of name finding,” he concluded, “and you’re getting close to your death date.” 

“That’s the plan,” Keith said.

The demon nodded again and was silent for the rest of the drive.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


So, his master was stupid after all. If he needed a demon killed, he had just gotten the answer to all his problems in the shape of Shiro, and yet the human had bargained for a market trip. Unbelievable. Perhaps his master had decided to learn the name before coming to terms over a demonic bodyguard…? Perhaps his master didn’t trust a demon to protect him in the first place. That would be fair, really. Even demons had loyalties and lords to mind. 

Still, the whole situation was quite a piece of luck. Shiro didn’t have many demons he would balk to kill, and if the name wasn't someone on his short list of “no’s”, he could easily bargain for more time in the Middle Realm. No need to offer yet, of course.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Just like the market near New Waterton, the one before Keith was surrounded with trees. They were ancient, brought over from the demonic realm as mere seeds, and centuries of toil (and routine “waterings” with the blood various demonic creatures) had allowed them to into towering, scrubby tangles of limbs and faintly smokey leaves. They gave the impression of smoldering wet wood, and Shiro informed Keith that no, it wasn't that they didn’t flourish in Middle soil--that was just what they looked like.

“If you watch long enough, you’ll see them moving,” Shiro said.

“That’s not the wind?” Keith asked, surprised. 

“Of course it’s wind,” Shiro scoffed. “It’s just not  _ local  _ wind.”

Apparently, the trees were still faintly subject to storms that blew through the limbs of their ancestral lands. It was more poetic than Keith expected for something from the demon realm. The poetic nature of the trees, however, did not make them ultimately likeable. They dropped sticky fruits that smeared and stank and stained the ground a sickly green. They were unavoidable, too, as demons had planted them throughout the entirety of the market, using them as pillars and beams for a tent structure they roofed with thick, enchanted cloth. Demons did poorly under the light of the Middle Realm’s harsh sun, so they made a dark haven for their market, only begrudgingly stringing lamps for the sake of their customers.

Keith paused at the entrance to the market. He’d never been to one without his grandmother before and here he was, a licensed summoner since he was 15, nervous to enter a new market. Ridiculous. 

Demons near the entrance had started to notice their presence--or at least, had started to notice Shiro--and they tittered amongst themselves, some electing to hide and some staying cautiously bowed, and a few calling out to Keith “good master, come see my wares”.

Shiro snorted and clapped Keith’s shoulder with a heavy hand. “Don’t worry--you won’t be getting swindled today,” the demon promised with a fang-filled smiled.

This announcement sent the little demons into a panic, begging “good master, test my wares! Only the best for good master” as they offered all manner of free samples.

“All we need is Blackmoss crystals,” Keith said, holding up his hands to quiet the throng.

A small demon skittered forward, introduced itself as Belokf, and promised to take directly and most speedily to the best and most worthy of Blackmoss dealers. It bowed so low it was almost kissing Keith’s shoes. The display of deference was definitely intended for Shiro’s benefit, not Keith’s, and the larger demon was clearly pleased. Keith would have preferred to just get directions, but Belokf was painfully insistent (and Shiro was painfully pleased), so Keith caved and let the little demon be their guide.

Belokf scampered ahead of them, shouting at everyone they met to clear the path. Shiro practically preened. Keith wanted to sink the ground and die.

Even though it was early in the day, the market was already teeming with activity. Free demons, summons, and their masters were everywhere, and even a few fae and angels were scattered around--the later looking rather uncomfortable. Keith could sympathize. 

Shiro’s hand suddenly shot out and he yanked Keith back by the shoulder. Keith yelped in surprise as the demon surged forward, growling as he stamped the ground. Magic hissed as a rune lit up and then winked out under Shiro’s foot. He had extinguished a rune before Keith could step on it.

Belokf wailed apologies at having failed to notice the trap as the keeper of the nearest stall stormed out, furious, until it laid eyes on Shiro. It flung itself on the ground, shaking, saying it had only wished not to be cheated.

“What was the spell?” Keith asked, hand on Shiro’s arm. He was afraid he would need to convince his bond not kill the other demon, but if the spell had been malicious, he didn’t have a prayer of intervening.

“A truth spell,” Shiro hissed, entire body tensed and focused on the quivering pile of misery in front of him.

“That’s it?” Keith said in disbelief. “It’s fine, Shiro. I didn’t even step on it. C’mon. Let’s just get the crystals. I want to make it back home tonight.”

For several long seconds, Keith thought Shiro was going to kill the grovelling demon anyway. Instead, after letting it plead for its life for a sufficient length of time, he snatched up the poor creature, hissed a low litany of demonic, and flung it back on the ground.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

Bewildered, Keith followed Shiro and their now terrified guide. He was grateful he hadn’t stepped on a truth rune--not that he was planning on lying anytime soon--but it was far from a harmful spell. Maybe Shiro was just that insulted that his bondhost had been “threatened”?

“What did you say to him?” he asked, struggling to keep pace.

“That if he could not tell on his own when a Middler was lying, he had no business selling to them.”

Keith barked a laugh and hastily turned it into a cough. Shiro’s ears flicked back.

“And what, exactly, is amusing you, master?” Shiro said, sending a glare over his shoulder back at Keith.

“Only that Middlers say pretty much the same thing about demons--and that they can lie while telling the truth,” Keith explained.

“Well,” Shiro said, sounding only slightly mollified, “we’re not as bad as fae.”

“ _ No one’s _ as bad as the fae,” Keith said. 

Shiro’s answering snort was very nearly a laugh, and some of his tension eased.

“Thank you, by the way. For looking out for me. And for not killing the guy,” Keith added.

Shiro’s left ear twitched. “You’re my bondhost,” he said gruffly after a pause (which was probably as close as Keith could expect to a “You’re welcome”, and that was fine).

“We are here, good master,” Belokf announced, bowing low and gesturing a dark hovel.

“Thank you, Belokf,” Keith said.

The tiny demon squealed its delight at having served as it backed away, thanking Keith all the while.

Shiro held up the flap of dingy cloth that served as the hovel’s door and peered in, nostrils flaring as he scanned the interior for threatens. Apparently satisfied, he raised his eyebrows at Keith and jerked his head toward the hovel. 

_ Ready or not _ , Keith thought to himself, and stepped inside.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


The demon market was littered with spells. Every shop and stall was plastered with them, and Shiro had to admit to himself that Middlers were wise to bring a familiar, even if the majority of the spells were wards against the unpleasant effects a demon would suffer from being in the Middle Realm. It was difficult (or rather, annoying) to sort through the onslaught of mingling magic, and Shiro doubted many Middlers were equal to the task. At least here he was paid his proper respect. That was something.

Perhaps it was because his ego was soaking the balm of deference, but the matter of the truth rune shook him. His master’s dignity had been disregarded (intolerable), and it had been a gross insult to himself as well. Anyone who dared to harm his bondhost in anyway indirectly tried to harm him, and so his own reaction puzzled him. The class four that had cast the rune should have either been ignored as beneath his notice or instantly ripped into fragments--and he paused,  _ prior  _ to Keith’s request for mercy. Where had that impulse come from, the idea of defending his master while holding back? Bizarre. The Middle Realm was affecting him already.

It was mainly for this reason that he entered the shop on edge. 

The shopkeeper was a class six hagraven. It had clearly made a comfortable living for itself in the Middle, what with its shelves suffering from the heavy burden of a crowd of rare goods. It crowed in delight at Keith’s entrance, bowing low and making a show of rustling its dry, inky feathers.

Shiro disliked it instantly.

“Welcome, welcome, good master! You have an eye for a bargain, coming to Shesk’s humble store!” it said in a rattling, tumbling voice. It extended its gnarled hands politeness. “Wise master will find what he seeks.”

“I hope so,” Keith said simply. “I understand you have Blackmoss crystals.”

Shiro didn’t bother hiding his annoyance--not that Keith could see, being in front of him--and his tail lashed unhappily. His master should not have stated his true purpose so bluntly. It was not the way of demons to bargain arrogantly, not so much as glancing at the other’s wares…! He did not like to see a fragrant display of rudeness in his bondhost. It reflected poorly on both of them, and Keith was better than that. 

The hagraven, noticing Shiro’s tail, attempted to diffuse the situation by offering another show of politeness.

“So eager for business! Such a hurried master,” Shesk said. “Let me tempt you with refreshment. Some fine tea, perhaps, to soothe your travels?”

“No thank you,” Keith said, a bit awkwardly. 

Now Shiro was just confused. Surely Keith was not purposely insulting the hagraven…! He was smart enough not to upset the demon he was trying to bargain with. Was he ignorant of demonic customs? Were all Middlers this dense?

The hagraven caught Shiro’s eye and raised the feathers on its heck ever so slightly--the equivalent of a shrug. Apparently this was simply how business was conducted in the Middle. The hagraven didn’t seem insulted, and it promptly resumed flattering and fawning over Keith. 

“Good master knows what he wants,” it said, claws clattering on the floor as it shuffled to a heavily locked chest. “Shesk will not keep the master waiting.

“Thank you,” Keith said, sounding sure of himself once again.

The hagraven muttered spells and enchantments as it fished out various keys and started the long process of unlocking the chest, finally pushing back the lid and pulling out a bundle of black velvet. It carefully set the bundle on its counter and delicately pinched the fabric between its claws, tugging it back to reveal a half dozen gleaming shards.

Blackmoss crystals were among the most beautiful things in the demon realm. They were milky white with shimmers of azure and lavender and would have been worth quite a bit as regular gems. They were powerful reagents valued in a number of potent spells, which drove the price up quite a bit, too, but the real reason they were worth so much as due to their location: the Blackmoss caverns. 

The caverns were in a dangerous location--a territory hotly contested by several minor demon lords--but the biggest danger lay in the caverns themselves. They were coated with black mosses that, when disturbed, produced pores noxious even to demons, causing painful boils on contact and death if inhaled. The crystals grew in only the deepest corners of the caverns and it was necessary to pry large heaps of moss aside before one could begin to mine for them. Needless to say, the small pile of shards glimmering on the velvet worth a fortune.

As much as was possible for a creature with a beak, Shesk grinned. “A fine selection for you, eager master. And what have you for me?”

Shiro wondered if Keith had noticed, but the hagraven’s shop was already lined with the most of the ingredients he had brought for bargaining. If he wanted even one crystal, he would need to offer energy--a  _ lot  _ of energy.

The annoyance that simmered along his spine began to shift to something hotter, thicker, and darker. Keith, oblivious, set his goods on the counter declared he would like to buy all of Shesk’s crystals. The hagraven barely suppressed a cackle with a cough.

“Good master, you have too much faith in my wealth! Your humble servant Shesk could not afford to part with even a single crystal for so little.”

“I know,” Keith nodded. “That’s why I’m also offering my energy.”

The hagraven’s eyes gleamed and it clicked its claws as its long, spindly tongue swiped at the bottom of its beak. If Keith was repulsed, he didn’t show it. Shiro’s jaw clenched. Greed, hunger, and something bordering on lust flooded the hagraven’s face, disgusting Shiro to his core. How  _ dare  _ the foul creature display its desire for his master so openly! Vulgar, base, pathetic beast. It was less than a beetle crushed beneath a careless heel.

“A taste, perhaps, good master,” Shesk rasped, already breathless. “Just a taste to know the quality.”

Keith hesitated, and then stretched out his hand. Shesk reached out a boney claw, nearly brushing the human’s skin.

Mine.

A word without translation, a word of warning and threat and power erupted from Shiro’s core. Shesk fell back as if struck, clutching its head and crying out silently in agony. Shiro had not needed to speak to be heard, his innate power expressing more than conscious word. Few could produce the soundless projection of the ancient spell words, and Shesk shook under the force of it. Shiro had warned the demon it was encroaching on his territory--it was considered beyond polite for someone of Shiro’s power to warn against a trespass rather than just kill the intruder, and once the hagraven could stand again, its feathers lay flat against its skull and thick, black sweat rolled down its skin. It had probably never come closer to death--certainly not since it had come to the Middle. Good. Let it be reminded of its place.

Keith, unaffected by the word, kept glancing between the two of them, trying to determine what had just happened. Shiro stood relaxed, his face completely neutral, and he gestured with his head for Keith to continue the negotiation.

Keith, apparently giving up, turned back to the hagraven. “Are you okay?” he asked.

(Obviously not.)

In response, Shesk shuffled to an empty bin and vomited several times.

“I am a foolish servant, good master,” it said weakly. I thought you meant  _ all  _ the crystals I have in the shop. You have already offered more than enough for the crystals before you, generous and most gracious master!”

Keith made a token protest but accepted the deal, and they were back outside the hovel in less than two minutes. Finally.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“Holy shit,” Keith said, falling against the frame of the hovel and laughing with relief. “Holy  _ shit _ . I have Blackmoss crystals.” He had seven fucking crystals, and a demon to thank. “Gods. I don’t know what you did, but thank you.”

Shiro just grinned. “I’m a class 9. I did it a favor by  _ letting  _ it be in my good graces.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. There had been a hell of a lot more going down in the shop than just that. “So what--it can cash in on that later?”

“Should it happen to roam into my territory, I will be disinclined to kill it,” Shiro said simply.

Keith shook his head. “The demon realm sounds terrifying.”

Shiro snickered. “It’s not dull, I’ll give you that.”

“So,” Keith said, pushing off the frame and adjusting his backpack, “what about you? Do you need anything here?”

Shiro looked puzzled. “Why would I need anything from here?”

“You know--potions, reagents, stuff to make divination easier.”

“Just time and energy. Eventually I’ll go to my old h--” Shiro cut himself off, frowning. 

“Your old…?” Keith asked. It had sounded like he was going to say “home”, but that didn’t make sense.

“My former host’s home. It’ll be easier to divine from a place I know a soul used to be.”

Keith nodded. That made sense. “Alright then. Let’s head home. I’ll work on name spells tomorrow, and tonight…,” he shot a glance at the demon, “we can get started on helping you get more energy.”

Shiro’s ears perked up and his tail gave an interested twitch. “Oh yeah?”

“You helped me more today than I can express,” Keith said truthfully. “You’ve more than earned my energy, and I think you’ve earned the right to be more involved, too.”

“Only if it won’t make you uncomfortable,” Shiro said sincerely, but his tail betrayed him--it was nearly wagging. 

“I’m sure we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement,” Keith smiled. 

Shiro nearly purred, and when he curled his tail around Keith’s ankle when they rode the train home, Keith didn’t complain.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if I made it clear, but while in the Middle Realm, demons treat the bondhost in the way they /would/ treat each other, sorta. So like, demons usually don’t directly interact with bound demons, but they treat the host with the kind of politeness they’d treat the demon. So, all the demons in the market freaking out and basically kissing Keith’s feet (while more or less ignoring Shiro) are doing it because Keith “belongs” to Shiro. Also, Shiro is more polite than most demons of his level, or rather, he doesn’t just go around killing them without warning and taking their stuff, lol. He’s “nice”. 
> 
> Shesk the hagraven was fun to describe, but that was one idiotic bird creature. It’s been in the Middle too long and is too used to dealing with Middlers. It would /never/ have presumed to touch Shiro’s host without permission if it had just come to the Middle. Also, it was stupid not to have just been like “Oh yes, whatever you want” to Keith in the first place, but demons that live in the Middle Realm tend to get complacent.
> 
> Low class demons like to be summoned. They can grow stronger in relative safety with in the Middle Realm, so they’ll take pretty much any deal and put with anything. Demons that have had their bond end and then stay in the Middle Realm usually end up living and trading in the markets because it’s so much more comfortable for them. A high level like Shesk would have been top dog in the market for years and years in part because going back to the demon realm would put it in a lower rank again.
> 
> Low demon lords that have defined territories start at class 7. There’s only a handful of class 10s. Also, something like a hagraven is innately weaker than yokai (Shiro’s type), so a class 6 hagraven is lower than a class 6 yokai. Still, calling them a class 6 gives someone a general idea of their strength.
> 
> (Middlers came up with the class ranking. Demons don’t really care about the number. They just want to be powerful.)
> 
> I have decided there are three realms (minus the Middle): angelic, fae, and demonic. The Middle Realm isn’t “above” demonic or “under” angelic---it’s more like the other three are in a circle around it. 
> 
> Uhhh I think that’s about it for my lore at the moment. Feel free to ask questions! Although my answer might be “I dunno” lol. It’s still good for me to think about it. ^_^
> 
> The next update will be for Never! Visit my Twitter (@decidedlysarah) to find out how you can participate in voting on future updates. :3 Also, I've got two minor projects in the works.
> 
> Someone, please, for the love of god, stop me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Shiro fails to understand riddles or data rates, Keith wonders about demon cock, and there is both smut and plot.

“So? How’d it go?” Lance asked asked eagerly as they entered the academy. The others were studying in the hall and turned to greet them as they walked in.

“Great! It went really great!” Keith said.

Lance stumbled back and smacked Pidge in the arm repeatedly. “Look! Look!! He’s smiling! You’re missing it! He’s  _ smiling _ !”

“I  _ am  _ looking,” Pidge hissed, smacking Lance back. “Stop talking. You’re gonna ruin it.”

It was a testament to Keith’s good mood that he brushed off their antics with a laugh. “Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he grinned, and Lance gasped and smacked Pidge again.

“He’s joking--Pidge, he’s  _ joking _ !” he cried.

“I’m right here, you  _ idiot _ ,” Pidge said, frantically searching her desk. “What are you waiting for? Get out your phone or find mine. We need to record this.”

“Congrats, man. I’m glad it went well,” Hunk said. 

“Thanks, Hunk,” Keith said, accepting his friend’s fist bump. “Professor Coran, will you be available for focused study tomorrow? I’d like your help to refine my Blackmoss crystals.”

The elf nodded as he twirled the end of his mustache. “Absolutely. I enjoy isolating and refining reagents. Won an award for it, back in the day. Of course, that was for my theory on containing micronic glow worm particles during summoning reversals, but I think the practical points will apply once put into, well, practice.”

“Here it is!” Pidge cried in triumph, holding her phone aloft. “Lance, quick, say something funny.”

“Uhhh, oh! What do you call a group of unorganized cats?” Lance paused, smirk ready.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Keith said. “Had a long day and all. You coming, Shiro?” He turned to the demon and found Shiro frowning, deep in thought.

“Unorganized...cats,” the demon muttered to himself, frown deepening. “Is that not every group of cats? Or perhaps you are thinking specifically of lions. A pride challenged by a rival male?”

Lance had not expected to gain the attention of the summon and he glanced nervously back at Pidge, who was recording happily and gave him an encouraging thumbs up. He swallowed.

“It’s a catastrophe,” he said weakly. “Get it? A cat-astrophe? It’s a joke.”

“No,” Shiro said solemnly. 

“Leaving now,” Keith said, tugging Shiro’s arm. “Goodnight, everyone.”

“Lance, you’re fired,” Pidge said. 

“Was that what you humans call a ‘riddle’?” Allura asked. “I’d heard they were supposed to be clever.”

“Hah! Now  _ that  _ was funny,” Hunk said.

Keith shook his head as he closed the door to the hall and lead Shiro back to his room.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“Alright,” Keith said when the got back to his room, “we’re going to have a hard time both fitting on my bed, but--”

“I can fix that,” Shiro interrupted.

“What? How?” Keith asked, suspicious. Somehow he could see a demon’s solution to the situation being to claim someone else's room as his own and call it done.

“Like this,” Shiro said. He brought his finger tips together and then slowly extended them out, muttering a single word in demonic.

Keith blinked. His room was bigger.  _ Much  _ bigger.

“What in the hells…?” Keith’s voice trailed off as he investigated his room. It was the same shape as before, but it had almost doubled in dimensions, and the bed (although not much taller) matched. All the other fixtures and furniture, however, had stayed the same. 

Keith checked his bathroom (also larger) and the common area (untouched) and went to the window to look outside (all normal). Now utterly perplexed, he turned back to Shiro. 

“How?” he asked. His room wasn't crowding into anything else--it hadn’t taken up more space in the rest of the house. It shouldn’t be possible. 

Shiro motioned Keith closer, leaned down until his lips nearly touched Keith’s ear, and whispered “Magic,” before pulling back with a wink, prompting Keith to roll his eyes.

“Right, fine. Keep your secrets,” he half-grumbled, not actually annoyed.

“What’s there to keep? I made some things bigger,” the demon said with a cocky grin.

“And didn’t make some other things bigger,” Keith said.

“Naturally.”

“But everything still fits, and nothing else is smaller,” Keith concluded, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

“Now you’re getting there.”

“Because magic.”

“Because magic,” Shiro nodded solemnly, eyes bright with mirth. 

Keith shook his head and smiled. “Well, for the record, that was one of the most impressive things I’ve ever seen.”

“And was the most impressive thing my cock?” Shiro teased, his ears perking up.

“Hah hah,” Keith said, cheeks turning pink. “And on that note--go sit on the bed like last time. No, wait--take your shirt off first.”

Shiro’s grin was full of fangs, but it wasn't threatening. He sank against Keith’s headrest and pulled off his shirt before parting his legs in invitation. “You got plans for me?” he said.

“Thought you’d like more skin contact,” Keith shrugged as he took off his own shirt, trying to be casual. He took his boots off and looked up. “You can, uh, keep your eyes open this time.”

The demon looked please enough to purr, and he eyed Keith over with obvious interest.

Keith pulled off his belt and wriggled free of his pants and boxer briefs. He was blushing a lot harder than he was proud of and was particularly embarrassed that he was growing noticeably less flaccid. He did his best to act nonchalant as he crawled onto his (now ridiculously large) bed and got settled, once again sitting with his back to Shiro’s chest. The demon’s hands came to rest on his hips, like the time before, and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

“Ready when you are, little master,” Shiro murmured.

Keith took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was nervous, but not nearly as much as the night before, and Shiro had done a hell of a lot (pun intended) since then to earn his trust.

He placed his hand over the demon’s and moved it lower.

“Okay,” he said. “Show’s all yours.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro was more than a little pleased at the display of boldness by the human, but Keith’s body was a line of tension. That would never do. He gave Keith’s cock a single tug and carried the movement higher, smoothing his hand over Keith’s stomach, gently pressing and prompting him to lean back (and yes--that skin-to-skin idea had been excellent).

“Relax,” he murmured. “Relax, relax.”

He massaged Keith’s thigh with his free hand and the human did slowly lose the tension in his shoulders, lying back comfortably against Shiro’s chest while the demon kept up a litany of quiet encouragements. A few minutes later, Keith huffed.

“Am I relaxed yet?” he asked wryly.

“Brat,” Shiro said, swatting Keith’s leg. “See if I’m ever nice again.”

Keith laughed. “I thought you ‘being nice’ was the whole point.”

Double brat.

“I  _ can  _ be mean, if you prefer,” Shiro offered.

Keith laughed again, and he really was relaxed now, letting his full weight rest against Shiro’s chest as he lounged.  _ Now--to get him stiff again _ , Shiro thought with a grin.

“You haven’t told me, you know,” he said, sliding his hand teasingly lower, “what it is you like.” Keith’s breath hitched as Shiro’s hand stopped at his base, gently kneading the surrounding flesh but ignoring his cock. “You like angels? Middlers?”

“Um, maybe?”

Well, that wasn't helpful.

“Dwarves? Humans?” Shiro pressed.

Keith turned and gave him an exasperated but amused glance over his shoulder. “You can just say ‘demon’ you’re fishing for compliments.”

Triple brat.

“I already know I’m a fantastic choice of partner, thank you. I can, however, make some physical adjustments if desired. Do you like men? Women?”

“Men,” Keith said,  _ finally  _ actually picking something. “You don’t need to change anything, by the way. You’re fine as you are.”

That was...nicer to hear than he would have expected, actually.

“So does that mean you prefer a partner who is...larger?” Shiro teased, squeezing meaningfully at Keith’s base. He felt a swirl of pleasure roll off the human and grinned.

“I, ah, hadn’t thought about it,” Keith said, squirming slightly.

“Hmm,” Shiro hummed, beginning to stroke with feigned casualness. “And what do you want a man to  _ hypothetically  _ do--take your cock? Bend you over something?”

“I don’t--mmm--know,” Keith confessed. “Either could be good but--nngh--I wouldn’t want to bottom for someone who didn’t know what they were doing.”

Well, fair.

“And would you want to top for someone who wasn't good at it?” Shiro said, hiding a laugh in Keith’s hair. He set his lips to Keith’s neck, nearly but not quite kissing him. “I could always pretend to be bad at this.” He swirled his wrist and pulled a quiet groan from the human.

“You seem to be the one with all the ideas here,” Keith laughed breathlessly.

Huh.

Shiro would have been open to anything Keith wanted--that was kind of the whole point--but he was right: there were things Shiro wanted, and specifically things Shiro wanted to do to  _ Keith _ .

“O-or is that not how it works?” Keith asked, his stammering seeming to come from awkwardness, not the distraction of pleasure. “I know this is for, ah, feeding.”

“Oh, my little master,” Shiro purred in his ear. “Do not fear--I  _ like  _ touching you.”

“Oh gods,” Keith whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

That was all the more permission Shiro needed. He brought his free hand off Keith’s leg to cup his balls, fondling and rolling them and causing the human to moan helplessly. Pleasure rolled off him in waves and Shiro caught it eagerly in his mouth, licking long stripes down his neck. He pumped and swirled his wrist, reading the reactions of Keith’s moans and the arch of his back to find the best rhythm.

“Look at you,” Shiro whispered reverently. “So beautiful. Look how responsive you are for me.” Keith’s cock was freely leaking now and Shiro rubbed the slick across Keith’s head with every pump. “I wonder how loud you’d be if I got my mouth on you--licking your pretty cock just the way it deserves.”

Keith whined and gripped Shiro’s thighs. “What else,” he panted. “What else would you do to me.”

Oh? Now  _ that  _ was intriguing--Keith was getting more interested. The taste of his pleasure was colored with want and urgency. It soaked into Shiro’s chest through their bared skin and the demon groaned in response.

“What  _ wouldn’t  _ I do to you, little master? I’d suck on your sweet little nipples, tug on them until they were red and swollen.”

Keith made a hitching moan and began to play with his nipples, twisting and flicking them in a parody of Shiro’s suggested fantasy. “Sh-Shiro,” he cried.

“That’s it, sweet master,” Shiro encouraged. “You taste so good right now. You have no idea. Just keep it doing it like that. I’ll make you come--just feel it, just let go.”

Keith moaned and cried, thrusting up into Shiro’s fist. “I want it, I w-want it,” he panted. “Gods, Shiro, make me come.”

“Do it,” Shiro growled. “Make a mess for me.”

Moments later, Keith was shooting white and crying out with a loud gasp.

“Yes, that’s it, perfect,” Shiro groaned. The pleasure coming of the human was potent and he greedily took it all, mouthing everywhere he could reach as his hands gentled his master through the aftershocks. 

“Oh gods, oh gods,” Keith panted. “That was so much better than yesterday.”

Shiro purred his agreement, happily lapping behind Keith’s ear.

“That tickles,” Keith said, giving Shiro a lazy swat on the leg. 

“I’m all done being nice,” Shiro said, and Keith huffed at him. He switched to mouthing at his shoulder, and Keith’s contented sigh was worth it.

Turns out he wasn't done being nice after all.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


“Aren’t you going to leave?” Keith asked through a yawn. He was arranging himself under the covers and Shiro was sprawled on his stomach, the same as he’d been at the hotel. “You’re not required to stay by me when we’re not in public.”

“Did you want me to?” Shiro asked. He was on Keith’s phone (probably why he hadn’t left) and did not look up, seemingly indifferent.

“I don’t care,” Keith shrugged. Shiro being on the phone wouldn’t keep him up, and if he wandered off, Keith could still track him through the collar. “You did your own thing the first night, so. Thought you might want to again, I guess.”

Shiro tilted his head slightly and his ears swiveled like he was following a sound. He waited for a moment before nodding to himself. “Wards are all active. All academy members are present. There’s two level one fae with the smallest human but I don’t detect stress, so I presume they are here with permission.”

Keith sat up on his elbows, impressed Shiro could detect that much detail that quickly. “Yeah, Pidge has two sprites. Allura also has four familiars--mice.”

“There are twenty-seven mice in the building,” Shiro said, attention returning to the phone, “but there are four in a group near the elf’s sleeping quarters.”

“Sounds like we might need a cat,” Keith grimaced.

Shiro snorted and Keith could see just enough of his face to spot the curve of a smile.

“Well, just don’t tell me how many spiders we have or I won’t be able to sleep,” he said. “Good night, Shiro.”

“Good night, Keith,” the demon replied, and just before Keith fell asleep, he felt a tail drape over his waist, and he smiled.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Skinny legs stumbled through the dark, but Keith knew that, for once, he wasn't being chased. Tall grass lined the path between the trees and the night was calm. He made it out of the woods and into a clearing, the moon low and bright. Keith had never seen so many stars, and he wanted to stare at the sprawling mess of them scattered across the sky, but laughter from across the clearing captured his attention.

He wasn't tall enough to see over the grass, but he knew there was a pond and an old wooden pier and the water was full of turtles and frogs and fish.

“They’re here!” the laughing voice said. “Come see, come see!”

Keith  _ wanted  _ to, he  _ did _ , but he was so small and it was so dark in the woods and he wasn't supposed to be out of bed.

(But he wasn't a scardy cat, no matter what anyone said.)

“We’ll get caught,” he cried plaintively, but he ran forward anyway.

Something rustled in the grass next to him, and a huge, horned figure rose up and blotted out the sky--a black silhouette, dangerous and kind and rimmed by stars.

“Look!” the demon said, opening his cupped hands. “Look, there’s fireflies!”

It was like he had a fistful of stars, and when they lip up his face, his eyes shimmered with their light. 

He was beautiful.

“Don’t leave me. Please don’t ever leave me,” Keith said, but his dream lips didn’t move.

“Keith?”

“My name’s not Keith,” Keith said, blinking in confusion as he sat up, suddenly awake.

Shiro blinked back at him. “Uk, okay,” he said. He held up the phone. “What does ‘data limit reached’ mean?”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro didn’t know why Keith was mad at the phone--it was the one who suggested other games he might like--but he decided it would be wise to stay off the phone for the rest of the day (and for good measure, maybe stay away from Keith as well). He would have preferred to stay away from  _ all  _ of the academy’s residents, but before he could slink off, the smallest human cornered him.

“Can you read this?” she demanded, holding up a tome.

“Yes,” Shiro said. It was covered in demonic runes.  _ Obviously  _ he could read it.

The human, Pidge(?), thumbed through the book before opening it with a triumphant cry and pointed at a particular set of runes.

“Can you read  _ this _ ?”

“Yes,” Shiro said again. Did the girl think he was stupid?

“Well?” she said, looking expectant.

“Hey Pidge? Have you seen my--oh holy  _ hells _ , for fucks sake, we just talked about this,” the frightened human (Hunk? Huge?) cried. He raced to Pidge and clapped his hand over her mouth. “Please ignore her, Mr. Shiro. We’re going to wait until Professor Coran can help us translate,” he said delivering the last part loudly.

Pidge elbowed him away. “Maybe  _ you’re  _ waiting, Hunk, but  _ I’m  _ asking Shiro. Coran’s going to be with Keith all day.”

Now Shiro was truly baffled.

“Why in the ten hells would I ever translate that for you?” he said, too confused to be upset at the aggressive breach of manners. 

“Yes, Pidge, why  _ would  _ a level nine demon do something for you for free?” Hunk asked meaningfully, glaring at his friend.

(This one was smarter.)

“I didn’t say it would be for free,” Pidge sulked. 

That was comforting, but still ridiculous.

“My current needs are all met by my host,” he said simply. “There is nothing to bargain.”

“And are you meeting all of his needs?” Pidge persisted, neither dissuaded nor discouraged.

“Pidge, that is disgusting--”

“I didn’t mean it  _ like  _ that, Hunk, oh my gods!”

Shiro was tempted to walk off and leave them to their squabble, but his curiosity prompted him to stay.

“What do you have to offer my master?” he asked.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith was fucking exhausted. The past few days were taking a toll on him emotionally, sure, but the bigger issue was the fucking Blackmoss crystals. Coran was a literal saint to stay with him the entire day, working until the last crystal was refined into usable powder. He had once practiced with his summoned blade for four hours straight, straining himself to his absolute limits, and that had nothing on the pure drain of energy that was refining.

“And we’re done!” the cheerful elf cried, smiling at him from across their circle. 

Professor Coran was known as eccentric--he took on only as many pupils as he felt a connection with, no matter how much he money he was offered in tuition by hopeful would-be students--and some within the magic community criticized him for letting his pupils dictate their own studies, but Keith couldn’t imagine a more patient and helpful teacher. He had yet to see the man complain when his students needed him, no matter how difficult or unpleasant the task. He knew he wouldn’t have been as patient with himself if he had been in the professor’s shoes, not after the day they’d just put in together.

Fuck. He was tired.

At least it had been a good distraction. There were far too many things he didn’t want to think about, most of them involving Shiro and how it had been so fucking stupid to make a deal with him and was a huge waste of resources, but also he really,  _ really  _ owed him for the crystals, so he should really just shut up about it already and deal with his choices, seriously, grow up already.

(Okay, looks like we’re back to thinking about it already. Awesome.)

Keith trudged up to the group kitchen and was pleasantly surprised to be met by Hunk who handed him a sandwich. 

“Hey man, thought you might be hungry.”

Keith groaned as he bit into the sandwich, manners completely forgotten. “Fuck’n amazin’,” he slurred around his mouthful.

Hunk grinned approval. “Glad to hear it. Please remember I’m your friend who takes care of you and that I don’t want you to kill Pidge.”

Keith narrowed his eyes. “What did Pidge do?”

“Uh, I  _ think  _ it’s okay now, but she was pestering Shiro earlier. He took it in stride, I think, but you know.” Hunk made a helpless gesture. “She’s Pidge.”

That was fair. Pidge was amazing but intense, and Shiro had a lot of ideas about appropriate conduct. 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Keith said, “and double thanks for the sandwich.”

Not certain what he would find, Keith opened the door to his bedroom, only to discover a happy demon sprawled out on the bed, phone in hand.

Again.

“Seriously?” Keith said before he could stop himself.

“Hey,” Shiro greeted, eyes bright and tail squirming happily. “I’ve got unlimited data!”

Eh?

“What?” Keith blinked. “How?”

“Pidge,” Shiro grinned. “I traded!”

“Traded?” Keith asked, frowning. Why did it make him so uncomfortable to think that other people could use Shiro, too?

“Translated a few spells for her,” Shiro said with a little shrug, apparently trying to downplay the situation, but his tail was still wagging. “She had a lot she wanted, but I figured for  _ unlimited  _ data, it was worth it.”

Keith decided not to explain the differences in data plans and let the demon keep the win.

“That’s great, Shiro,” Keith said, sinking down on the bed as he finished off his sandwich. “Sounds like we both had a productive day.”

“Finish all the crystals?”

Keith nodded and stretched. Fuck. He was sore all over and his hands were starting to cramp up from prolonged, precise spell casting.

Shiro watched thoughtfully as Keith massaged his fingers. After a moment, he set the phone aside and sat up.

“Come here,” he said, gesturing for Keith’s hands. “Feels worst right there?”

“Ouch!” Keith hissed. “Yes, that’s terrible.”

Shiro chuckled and traced a single claw over the lines of Keith’s hand. “Magic mostly follows the blood, but it can get caught up in the joints. You need to coax out the excess. See?” Shiro demonstrated. With the lightest touches, he soothed the ache enough for Keith to audibly sigh. “Feeling better?” he smirked.

“Yeah,” Keith said, melting just a little. “Gods. How do you know how to do that?”

There was the barest pause. “I’m multi-talented,” Shiro said. “Now, go to bed.”

“What?” Keith blinked. That was a sharp turn. “Okay, I guess.” Damn, he was fucking tired. He kicked off his shoes and started on his belt. “Any chance we can do something light tonight? Today was...rough.”

“Why would we be doing something tonight?”

Keith pulled off his shirt and looked over his shoulder to find Shiro frowning at him. “Because you need to feed regularly…?” he said. 

“Keith,” Shiro said gently, “you are  _ exhausted _ . I’m not taking anything from you tonight.” He leaned forward to brush his nose against Keith’s forehead. “Rest well, little master.”

Somehow, it felt like a dismissal, even though it was tenderly delivered. Keith was too tired to think about further, though, so he pulled off his pants and crawled under the covers, grateful just to sleep.

“Night, Shiro,” he yawned, eyes already closing.

“Good night, little master,” Shiro said softly.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro was old. It was no small thing to grow old as a demon, and it meant he was powerful, clever, and not a little lucky. Age did not affect demons the way it did other creatures, causing no wearing down of body or mind, and so Shiro’s memory loss always jarred him when he encountered it. 

It was mostly his own fault. 

He’d  _ wanted  _ to forget, pushing his memories as far away from himself as he could, shoving them deeper and deeper in his mind until no one could drag them back--not even himself. It was a standard demonic tactic. Things that were unpleasant and did not serve as a lessen toward survive were often abandoned. 

They were, however, rarely made completely irretrievable, and now Shiro wondered if he’d push things down far enough.

Shiro watched his master’s sleeping form and contemplated trying to remember. Something about the matter of the hands had prompted a warning: down this path lay memories. It wasn't even the part about magic that had given him pause--he didn’t care at all how he’d learned to ease the residue of hard magic from a body--no, it was the hands themselves that were the issue. 

It was  _ holding  _ the hands.

What could possibly be unbearably unpleasant about holding a human’s hands? He was missing a key piece of the situation here (which was of course the point), and he hesitantly approached the frayed edges of his mind where the pits of his past lay buried. Surely there was no harm in  _ this  _ fragment.

It took him less than a minute to decide against it.

He trusted his former self to have buried those things for a reason.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith’s dream was blurry that night, but he was fairly certain Shiro had given him a ride on his shoulders, and as he woke up, it occurred to him that his dreams were getting much more pleasant now that the demon was around. Maybe he felt safer at night with such a fearsome guard on duty? Well, whatever the cause, while his days might not be getting easier, he was definitely sleeping better. He’d take it.

His consciousness came back slowly and he stretched and shifted several times before succumbing (with great reluctance) to wakefulness. Shiro’s tail, he noted, was still securely wrapped around his waist. Cute. The demon himself was still on the phone, which was...also kind of cute, to be honest. 

“You beat the game yet?” he asked through a yawn.

“Several times,” Shiro grinned, holding up the phone excitedly. It was tic tac toe, Keith realized, and he had to suppress a smile.

“Good job,” he said, and the demon preened under the praise.

Keith stretched again and contemplated getting out of bed. He could tell from the progress of the sunbeam from his window that it was well past the time he normally started his day, but he was still aching and tired. Shiro seemed to notice as he cocked his head, studying Keith.

“Rest,” he concluded, using his tail to press Keith’s head back onto the pillow.

Keith made a noise of protest but lay back down anyway. “I’m better than yesterday,” he said. 

“Mhmm,” Shiro agreed, “but I’m still not taking your energy yet.”

Somehow, Keith had not considered the possibility of morning energy, uh,  _ consumption _ , and that made him realize he had morning wood. “Guess I’ll take care of this myself then,” he said, under his breath. 

Shiro sat up and looked over Keith with interest. “Oh? Were you thinking of something? Maybe some good dreams?” he winked.

(The shoulder ride was actually a good dream in a charming sort of way, but definitely not erection-producing.)

“Humans often get erections in the morning,” Keith explained with a shrug. “It’s no big deal. I’ll take care of it in the shower.”

“No, no, no,” Shiro said, smiling wide. “I  _ insist  _ on helping you out. It would be a shame to waste it.”

“What was that about not taking my energy?” Keith asked wryly, starting to sit up again.

“I’ll go easy on you,” Shiro smirked. “Don’t worry about it.”

Keith shrugged, playing the whole situation off as inconsequential, but truthfully it stirred something warm in his gut to be  _ wanted _ , even if it was just for a feeding. Shiro had seemed to indicate at the prior feeding that this was more than the need to eat and supply himself with Middler energy, too. Arousal hummed in him as they walked to the bathroom and he turned on the shower before shedding his clothes. And then he saw something that made his heart crash: Shiro was smooth below.

“You’re…,” he stammered, staring as Shiro tossed aside the last of his clothes. 

“Hmm?” Shiro asked. “Oh, yes. I got rid of it. You aren’t ready for it and I thought you might be uncomfortable feeling me against your backside.”

That was considerate, sure, but didn’t that mean Shiro wasn't getting anything out of their...encounters? Perhaps demons still experienced arousal and satisfaction without genitals, but... He stared at Shiro’s smooth crotch for a bit too long, and the demon tipped his chin up with a claw.

“I promise to let you have all the fun you want with my cock later,” he said. “It’s very easy to bring back.”

“Ah,” Keith said, dropping his gaze and turning back to the shower. “Good to know.”

His erection had flagged considerably, and he wondered if the moment was over, but Shiro stepped in close behind him and ran his hands down Keith’s back. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, little master. Too tired after all?” he said, nosing down into Keith’s hair. 

“Um, no, I just…,” Keith faltered. “I guess I thought you  _ enjoyed  _ everything more.”

(Which was fucking stupid because obviously the demon had never finished himself off. Stupid, stupid.)

“Oh, sweet master,” Shiro murmured. He turned Keith around and hoisted him up against the wall in one swift move, making Keith yelp and reach for the demon’s horns to steady himself. He was above Shiro’s head, and he quickly wrapped his legs around Shiro’s neck. “There is nothing about this I don’t enjoy.” 

He leaned forward and mouthed at Keith’s cock, humming. “Delicious,” he said, licking at the head and tightening his grip on Keith’s sides. He looked up caught Keith’s gaze in his own. “Let me make you feel good. I’ll show you just how much I like this.” His smile was mischievous but there was a hunger in his eyes that made Keith shiver despite the hot water. He bit his lip and nodded permission.

Shiro had Keith sucked down in an instant, not bothering with his usual teasing. His brow pinched in pleasure and what might have been a moan rumbled in his throat. Keith gasped at the sudden shock of pleasure rolling down his spine that burned hotter with every sweep of the demon’s tongue. Shiro moved a hand lower and crawled Keith’s ass, pushing forward to encourage Keith to rock on his own. Keith obeyed, helpless put to thrust into the warm slide of Shiro’s mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he whimpered. “Oh fuck that’s good.” 

His toes curled and he rolled his hips, mouth falling open as he chased his release, all worries gone the second Shiro had closed around him. His orgasm rushed over him before he could truly process what was happening. Shiro swallowed his release and lapped gently over his cock until Keith had to squirm away, too sensitive to take more. 

Shiro nuzzled at his thigh before slowly lowering him back down to the floor. “Feeling better?” he asked, taking only a few careful swallows of energy from Keith’s neck. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, a little dizzy. He steadied himself with his palms against Shiro’s chest and looked down.

A very hard, very large cock jutted from Shiro’s pelvis. 

“Oh,” he said faintly.

Shiro took his hands and pressed a kiss to each one. “For later,” he winked, and left.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro did not feed from him that night or the next morning, citing Keith’s need “to be at his best” when he tried to learn the name of his attacker. Keith appreciated the gesture, really, but he wasn't entirely convinced the demon wasn't forgoing feeding just to rile him up. In either case, that was the result: Keith was fucking horny. 

Despite being a teenager, he rarely experienced a true bout of hormonal need. It was something he’d learned to tune out in favor of focusing on honing survival skills. But, now that he had some extra time on his hands as he waited to perform the ritual, his cock was harder to ignore.

Just great.

It wasn't even like he really wanted  _ sex _ , either. Or at least, he hadn’t looked at Shiro’s dick and immediately thought “This in me now please”. What he was attracted to was Shiro’s massive confidence. He’d promised that he would make Keith feel good and he’d proved himself more than capable, and when he blithely stated that Keith would want more of him later, Keith fucking believed him. He’d been hit on by confident guys before and it had never affected him this way.

Gods. Maybe it was just Shiro. 

Was Keith seriously  _ this  _ turned on by a demon? A highly skilled demon, but still. Yikes. Keeping this under wraps, thanks.

The whole situation kept him so sufficiently distracted that he was almost surprised when Coran offered to help him set up for the name finding ritual. Gods. He’d spent so many years preparing for this moment and, now nearing the finish line, he was thinking about demon cock. Excellent.

The ritual itself was simple: woven rushes burned in a runed, silver basin as Keith poured a pinch of the purified crystals into the flames, whispering the spell of learning. Everything was measured, balanced, calculated, and triple-checked, and Keith watched the flames grow, flicker, and finally burn out before, at last, he leaned over the basin and waited for the ashes to form a name.

The basin showed him nothing but his own face, confused and lost, looking back up at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much to whoever it was that suggested I use www.worldanvil.com for my worldbuilding needs. I haven’t actually made an account yet, but it looks pretty damn amazing. I recommend y’all give it a look if you’re doing a story like this or even something like a D&D campaign. 
> 
> Demons in this fic are like fish/reptiles in that, when living in ideal conditions, they’re pretty much immortal. Middlers are the only ones that experience a defined aging process with expected lifespans. As a kind of trade off, Middlers are the only ones who reincarnate. The creatures that live in the realms can be reborn, but it’s from an outside force--having their “true name” called and rituals prepared, etc. 
> 
> Keith is gonna start getting dicked down on the regular. *chef kiss* I mean, not /just/ yet because they will ease into a bit, but it’s comin’. 
> 
> Next update will also be for Soul Bound and I think the plot will get a movin' finally. I mean...it has been.......but like, we should finally get more Shiro hints. That's the main thing, really. Shiro hints! Yay! Tell us what you've been lying about you adorable, sexy bastard!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Keith has a bad day, Shiro makes it worse and then better, and there is a lasagna.

Shiro watched his host scour through a heap of thick tomes and wondered just how little provocation it would take to break his bubble of energetic, manic study. Keith had insisted he wasn't surprised that the first attempt at the naming spell hadn’t yielded anything and that he had specifically gotten extra Blackmoss crystals on purpose because of course these things often take multiple castings, but his knee had yet to stop bouncing under the table, and he was chewing his lip nearly to point of puncturing skin.

“I don’t think the spell is the problem,” Shiro said. He was pretty sure he was going to get the in firing path of his master’s frustration. He wasn't worried. The human needed to get it out of his system anyway.

Keith picked up the ritual basin and compared one of its runes to something written on the page in front of him. “Oh?” he said, not looking up.

“Nope,” Shiro said, emphasizing the “p” with a loud pop. 

Keith glanced up just long enough to dart Shiro a quick frown and went back to his book. “Why not?” he asked as he turned the page.

“Because you’ve spent the majority of your life learning and perfecting it.”

“Right,” Keith said, grinding his teeth. “So it’s not wrong and I just suck. Thanks.”

“No. What I mean is maybe you’re getting this all backwards. A spell of true naming is difficult, sure, but it’s straightforward,” Shiro said. “Prophecies, on the other hand…”

Keith’s frown deepened and he set the basin down. “What are you trying to say?”

“Well, you already know your fate reading was  _ vague _ about your survival. What makes you so certain about the rest of it?”

There was a long sigh as Keith rubbed his face and sank back in his chair. “I had my fate read four times when I was an infant. They all agreed: a demon attacks me on my 20th birthday.”

Shiro leaned forward, interested. “Oh? And what didn’t they agree on?”

“That’s not how fate readings work. When Middlers are very young or very old, their souls aren’t fully anchored in their bodies, and that’s what makes it possible for gifted readers to see a piece of their past or future. As a baby grows older, their soul cements. It gets harder and harder to do a reading. My parents took me to have my future read four times. All four times were different, but that was because it was harder to see. So, each reading gave fewer and fewer details, but it’s not like the story itself changed. Does that make sense?”

“So, there is a narrow frame of time to make a reading,” Shiro said, “and yours were spread out. I take it the story was the same each time, just less of it?”

Keith nodded wearily. “20th birthday, demon, attacked. No idea what happens next.”

Shiro considered this. “Any details about the attack itself?”

“Fate readers have their own language. Did you know that?” 

Shiro raised his eyebrow at the change of subject but said nothing.

“All fate readers descend from the fae, and the language they use is an older form of fae,” Keith said, picking up one of his notebooks and thumbing through it. “Fae is the most complex of languages, by the way, so translating it is a pain in the ass. Anyway. The word used for ‘attack’ during all four of my readings.”

Keith pointed to a word on his notebook and Shiro read it. “‘Giscovlynnic?’ Never heard of it.”

“It literally translates as ‘to throw one’s body at’,” Keith said. “It means to attack with your full weight, your entire being.”

That sounded like a demon, alright. Give no mercy. Take no prisoners.

“So, that means whatever attacks me won’t be doing it just to fight and get away, you know?” Keith said sadly. “It will definitely try to kill me.” 

“Probably,” Shiro conceded, “but have you considered that it might be a good thing?”

Keith gave him a strong look that said  _ obviously  _ he hadn’t.

“A powerful demon would never need to throw its ‘full weight’. Only a weak one would need to take its entire force to defeat you.”

Shiro watched as the human weighed the logic of what he’d said. “Maybe,” Keith said doubtfully, “but wouldn’t a strong demon use its full force to defeat me if it hated me enough?”

Okay, fair point, pettiness also sounded like a demon. 

“I have a hard time imagining you doing something that would make a powerful demon hate you. You’re just not important enough to matter,” Shiro said sincerely.

Keith managed a weak laugh. “Well, I’ll try hard to stay unimportant for the next couple of months.” He went back to working, perhaps a little less wound up, but still anxious. Shiro decided to poke at him some more--better to lance a wound and drain the infection then let it fester.

“Why are you trying to fight this in the first place?”

Oh, and that did it.

Keith’s head snapped up and he glared. “And what do you recommend? Just fucking sitting down and dying?”

“Why not? You’re human. You’re going to reincarnate anyway--why not just enjoy the time you know you have? You’ve been guaranteed 20 years and that’s more than a lot of people,” Shiro reasoned. “You’re making this into a big deal.”

“Um, excuse me for thinking  _ an attack on my life _ is that big a deal,” Keith scoffed, slapping his book shut. 

“Look, fate readings only find big things, right? Well, even if the attack was from the tiniest imp, you’ve let it  _ become  _ a ‘big thing’ because you’ve spent your entire life focused on it. Why not just live? You’ll either beat the demon or you won’t. And what happens if you do? Do you even have something you want to do besides live?”

Keith’s face tightened in anger. “Fuck you,” he hissed, and stormed from the room.

Well. Probably could have gone better, but still a job well done.

Shiro whistled quietly and cleaned up the mess of books the human had left behind him.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


What the fucking fuck fuck  _ fuck  _ was that?! There was no way Shiro was  _ that  _ fucking ignorant. Demons might be practically immortal, so sure, they wouldn’t really get what it was like to be as fragile as a human, but seriously?! Demons were obsessed with growing stronger and being more powerful than anyone around them, and what was the point of all of that if not to protect yourself? Did a life really seem so insignificant to a demon, to Shiro, because he’d be born again? 

Keith made it to his room and slammed the door behind himself, furious and desperate to be alone. He was pretty sure he’d ignored Lance and Allura on his way in and he didn’t care. He couldn’t bare to talk to anyone right now.

Fuck Shiro.

Was it really such a terrible thing that Keith didn’t want to fucking die? What did it matter that he didn’t have any other plans or goals or whatever? Wanting to be alive should be enough. He wanted to live. 

Anger clutched painfully at his chest and Keith had to swallow done the urge to scream. He wanted to live. He wasn't ready to die yet. He hadn’t done anything. He hadn’t been anywhere. He hadn’t ever let himself play around or waste time with friends or even make any friends because he wanted to live and he wasn't going to let himself second guess that now. Fuck.

Keith balled up his fists and bit at his knuckles to keep from crying. This was so fucking stupid. He was scared. So what if he was scared? Everyone was scared of dying. Gods, he missed his grandmother. Why had he ever left her house to go to this stupid academy? He couldn’t get the spell right. He couldn’t learn the name or actually protect himself. He might as well have spent his time with her, letting her try to teach him how to cook and casting simple spells for a living. That would have been okay. He would have liked that. But he’d left. He’d left his home and wasted his time trying to fight the inevitable. 

Waste, waste, waste.

_ Do you even have something you want to do besides live? _

Fuck Shiro.

Keith sank to the floor, curled over, and sobbed.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


It was late evening before Shiro ventured up to his master’s room. He wasn't used to guilt and he reminded himself sternly that it had been for the best that he’d made Keith angry. Only… He could feel the hurt and rage and terror emanating off him, even when he’d slunk off to the farthest room in the academy, and in the end, he had to admit the outburst was his fault. 

His poor little master. 

Uncertain if he’d be welcome but still hoping to make amends, Shiro quietly entered Keith’s room and gently shut the door.

“Keith?” he asked.

The miserable ball that was his master huddled tighter under the covers but didn’t say anything.

Shiro approached the bed, waiting to be turned away, but Keith stayed silent. The demon crawled carefully onto the bed and tucked himself around the quivering pile that was his master, uncertain how to offer comfort other than with the protection of his body. It was the instinctive thing to do as a demon, but perhaps it wouldn’t translate to the human.

Keith stayed still, but his heartbeat slowed. Shiro took that as a good sign and wrapped his arm over his master. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.

“I don’t want to die,” Keith whispered, voice hoarse with long tears.

“I know,” Shiro said softly. Something was beginning to tug at his mind, something from the frayed pit of buried memories. He swallowed and ignored it. 

“Are you going to take my energy?”

It wasn't an offer, and Shiro didn’t like it. “Do you want me to?” he asked. He would make the human feel pleasure if he wanted, and he would enjoy doing it, but he didn’t want Keith thinking that was why he’d come to bed.

“I don’t know.”

Huh. Not the response he’d expected. 

Shiro rubbed his arm soothingly along the human’s back until Keith finally let out a shaking sigh and relaxed. 

“Can you make me feel better?”

“I can make you feel good,” Shiro said. He knew it was not the same thing. “You know you can ask me for help, Keith. There’s demons I can’t fight, but I’m strong.”

The covers rustled as Keith turned over to look at him. “That’s not our bargain,” Keith said slowly.

Shiro brushed the hair from Keith’s forehead. “So make new terms,” he said. “We both know you made a terrible deal the first time. You really should get better at that.”

Keith snorted and Shiro considered that a step in the right direction. 

“I’ll...okay. In the morning. I can’t really think right now,” Keith said finally.

Shiro hummed sympathetically and touched his nose to Keith’s forehead, making the human sigh, tension easing out of him slowly. After a moment, Keith’s hand snuck out from under the covers and hesitantly brushed down Shiro’s arm.

“Are you...still up for making me feel good?” he asked. He chewed his lip and looked up from under his lashes, all shyness and worry when he should have known better--Shiro’s master was silly if he thought Shiro would possibly refuse such a delightful request. 

The demon rolled over to cage the human with his limbs, eyes darkening with desire. “I would like nothing better,” Shiro said honestly, pressing a growling kiss to Keith’s cheek. “Let me take of you, master. Let me make you come undone. I’ll be so good to you.”

Keith shivered. “Yeah,” he said, voice already breathy. “Yeah, take care of me.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro’s grin was smug and predatory as he worked his way down Keith’s body, rucking his shirt to kiss and tease his stomach and chest before latching onto a nipple. Keith gasped and curled his fingers into Shiro’s shirt and tugged meaningfully. Shiro chuckled and let Keith wrangle the clothing over his head, laughing louder when it got caught in his horns.

“This is why demons don’t wear clothes,” Shiro said with a wink as he took over.

“That and it’s hotter there,” Keith said, pouting a little because it wasn't his fault Shiro needed to wear clothes while in the Middle Realm and he didn’t like shouldering the blame for any consequences. 

Shiro tossed the cloth away and stretched before peering down at Keith with mischief in his eyes. “Too slow,” he announced as he yanked Keith’s shirt free, making the human yelp. He pulled Keith free of the covers with one hand and peeled off his pants with the other, and Keith was not about to admit how hot it was to be casually manhandled--not that he was able to hide his opinion on the matter, however, as Shiro smirked triumphantly at the sight of Keith’s tenting boxers.

“Shut up and take off your pants,” Keith muttered, blushing.

“As my master commands,” Shiro grinned, popping open the button of his jeans.

The demon made a show of slowly pulling down his zipper, the fabric straining against a sizable bulge, and he paused for a moment to cup himself and moan. “Looking at you feels good,” he said, eyeing Keith from under thick lashes.

Keith blushed harder and said nothing.

“Do I get to taste your little cock tonight?” Shiro continued, at last finishing the zipper and letting himself free.

“M-my cock isn’t little,” Keith protested, his voice far closer to a whine than he was willing to admit.

Shiro chuckled and quickly shed his jeans before tossing them aside. “Little master,” he said, crawling back up the bed and placing one large hand over Keith’s slender waist, “ _ all _ of you is small.”

He wrapped his hands tightly around Keith’s waist and hauled him up, nipping his boxers with his fangs and tugging the offending cloth down and away. 

Gods, this should not be doing it for him, but being so easily held and manipulated was so damn easy. He could sink into it and let it happen, let Shiro’s strength and size overpower him. He could surrender without guilt and accept what Shiro gave him.

Keith’s vision went hazy as he watched Shiro’s tongue lick over him, coating his cock thoroughly as the demon moaned in his throat. He was about to protest when Shiro swallowed him down--he really was--but then Shiro did something amazing with his tongue and Keith could only groan. He wanted to get his hands on Shiro’s cock and explore him, but apparently that would be later in the evening, and fuck, that was fine by him. 

Abruptly, Shiro pulled off.

“Wha…? What’s wrong?” Keith asked.

Shiro peered down at him curiously, looking him over. “Nothing. Just realized that wasn't what you wanted.”

Keith sat up on his elbows. “It wasn't? You can tell?”

“Mm,” Shiro said, which wasn't an answer. He continued looking Keith over and experimentally swept his fingers over his body, pausing occasionally to tweak or massage something. “Ah,” he said at last. “So that’s the problem. You want this.” The demon stroked himself with a smirk. “My apologies, little master--I should have realized it earlier. You did, after all, tell me you wanted it.”

Keith’s eyes went round at the sight of the demon casually rubbing his massive girth. “I thought you said I wasn't ready,” he said, mouth dry.

“You’re not,” Shiro agreed, “not to  _ take  _ it--but that isn’t what you want yet, is it?” He tilted his hips to present his cock more fully to Keith. “Go ahead. Play with it.”

Keith licked his lips. He  _ did  _ want to play with it. He wanted to feel the weight of it in his hand and know if it was sensitive in the same places as his own. A little intimidated, he reached out hesitantly before brushing his fingers down the length. Shiro made a quiet noise of encouragement. Keith closed his fist and rubbed.

Shiro’s cock had a ridge of raised bumps along the top and had a flare around the head. The head itself was longer and more tapered than Keith’s. The hole was beading precum and, curious, Keith leaned forward to lick it up. Salty with a sweet undertone. Interesting.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” Shiro purred. He tipped Keith’s chin up with a claw and grinned down at him. “Don’t worry, little master--you can suck all you want. I’ll keep leaking for you.”

“Okay,” Keith said breathlessly. “Y-you like it, too?”

Shiro’s hand cupped the back of his neck and cradled his head. “Sweet master, of course I do. How could I not like your pretty mouth? I want to feel you moan around me.” He guided his tip to Keith’s mouth and stopped there, waiting for Keith to make the final move. “Swallow me if you want me, master--I promise I’ll be loud.”

Fuck. Keith wanted to make Shiro loud. He took Shiro in, sucking and licking around his tip and, true to his word, Shiro groaned for him. 

“Good boy,” he panted. “Just like that.”

Keith whimpered and wrapped both hands around Shiro, rubbing at his ridges as he bobbed his head. He was, of necessity, staying relatively shallow, but Shiro groaned for him like he’d swallowed to the root. 

“Yeah, just along there,” Shiro said, guiding Keith’s hands. “Go harder.”

Keith obeyed eagerly, soaking up every instruction. Shiro was rocking forward and Keith matched the pace. He watched in fascination as pleasure broke over the demon’s face, replacing his usual smirking confidence with need. Fuck. He was actually going to make the demon come. 

He redoubled his efforts, whimpering around his mouthful of cock and Shiro responded in kind, cursing and tightening his grip on Keith’s neck. 

“Yeesss,” he hissed. “Just like that--perfect.” His eyes, previously closed in pleasure, opened and he looked at Keith with silver irises swallowed by black. “Want my cum in your mouth?”

Keith could only squirm and nod. 

Shiro groaned and pumped his hips--not hard enough choke, but enough that his cock nudged the back of Keith’s throat, causing his eyes to water. He loved it. He moaned and Shiro cursed again as he came, hot cum filling Keith’s mouth until he had to pull back, unable to swallow it all. Hunched over him, eyes dazed, Shiro squeezed his hand over Keith’s, prompting him to keep going, and the demon continued his release, thick stripes landing on Keith’s face and neck. 

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” Shiro gasped, staring down at the mess he’d left. “You look so good with my cum on you.”

“H-how do I taste?” Keith said, almost a challenge if not for his stutter.

Shiro did not hesitate to crowd over him and lick Keith’s cheek and jaw before diving into Keith’s panting mouth. Distantly, Keith understood that this was not a typical first kiss, but in the moment all he could do was moan and wrap his arms around the demon’s broad back. 

“You taste perfect,” Shiro said as he pulled back. He pulled Keith into his arms and urged him to wrap his legs around his waist. “Come on, little master. Rub against me. Take what you need.”

Keith needed no further encouragement, moaning as he rutted against Shiro’s slick cock. He dug his fingers deep as he came with embarrassing speed, lasting only a few desperate thrusts.

“Perfect, beautiful, exquisite,” Shiro murmured, nuzzling his hair before lying him gently back on the bed and feeding with slow, grateful kisses. 

Keith took deep breaths, recovering while Shiro fed. It calmed him to have Shiro pay thorough attention to him, cleaning him as he went. 

“You taste even better when you have both of mixed together,” Shiro said, licking his lips after finishing cleaning Keith’s face. “I’ll have to mark you again, little master.”

Keith shivered. It felt good to think that Shiro liked his body that much.

“Cold?” Shiro asked, mistaking the shiver. He tucked Keith to his chest and Keith sighed, settling there. The demon’s body emitted a lot of heat, and it was comfortable.

“It’s nice,” Keith said. 

“Good,” Shiro said, kissing the top of his head. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Are you tired?”

Keith nodded. 

“Then rest,” Shiro said gently, rearranging them on their sides and pulling up the covers. “Everything you need to do will still be there in the morning. You can rest for now.”

“Okay,” Keith said, not questioning how safe he felt in the demon’s arms. He fell asleep in moments.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Shiro was pleased to find his master in a far better mood the following morning. He was back to his usual determination but without the specter of fear and anger he’d had the day before.

“So,” Keith said after breakfast when they were alone again, “what kind of terms are you proposing?”

“I need energy and the freedom to roam as a level nine. You need protection,” Shiro shrugged. “This doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“Yes, but changing the terms like that means I gain a lot and your side stays the same,” Keith pointed out. 

“I don’t care. Our prior terms were terrible because you were desperate.”

“You were kind of desperate, too,” Keith pointed. “You negotiated down from decades to months.”

Shiro just shrugged again. Keith gave him a meaningful look, and the demon sighed.

“Look, it’s really not a big deal to change the terms. I wanted to deal with a summoner like you--someone who intended to summon a class nine would have asked for something huge. What you need? Tiny.”

Keith frowned. “But we don’t know what class level you’ll need to fight. What if it’s a level ten?”

“That’s why we have terms,” Shiro chuckled. “I will not fight a class ten and I will not fight the lieutenants of Zarkon. That’s it. I’ll protect you from anything else.”

That was an incredibly generous offer. There were less than a dozen class tens in existence (that Middlers knew of, at least), Zarkon being one of them. Class tens always had a few class nines and eights sworn to their service, but that wouldn’t be more than 20 or so. That meant Shiro promised to fight  _ any  _ demon other than a mere 30 to 40 individuals. That was huge and all but guaranteed Keith’s safety. 

“Shiro,” Keith said, unable to say more.

“I realize it seems like an unbalanced offer from your point of view, but consider this: I can kill most of hell without blinking,” Shiro said. “You can easily provide me with energy and, provided you live long enough, I won’t need to find another host prior to discerning the reincarnation date of that soul. It’s convenient and mutually beneficial. That’s makes for good terms.”

That was true.

“Also,” Shiro said with a grin, “I actually like you, and I can’t say that for most Middlers. Pleasant company is a valuable thing.”

Keith couldn’t help returning the grin. “Terms are accepted.”

They hashed the details, altered Shiro’s collar, and Shiro recited only 34 names he would not fight (or rather, their common names--no point in risking summoning them via curiosity of who named them). When they were done, Keith stretched.

“Alright. Time to start packing.”

“Oh? Where are we going?” Shiro asked.

“Wherever you need us to,” Keith said. “That’s part of my side of the bargain--you need to go somewhere to divine a rebirth, don’t you? Or, it’ll be easier, at least?”

“But you haven’t gotten your name yet,” Shiro pointed out. His side of their deal could easily wait.

“Yup, but it’s not like I need to be at the academy to cast spells,” Keith shrugged. “I’ll pack my stuff and we can…,” he trailed off and frowned. “Actually, I have some stuff I need to do in town today. Will you be alright on your own here tonight? I’ll be back first thing tomorrow.”

Shiro was surprised and somehow a little disappointed--not put off leaving for a day, but to be left alone. It was silly, but they hadn’t been apart since he’d been summoned, and even though it had only been a short time, he didn’t like the thought of wandering around without Keith. 

“Yeah, that’s fine. It’ll take me a while to figure out where we need to go anyway,” he said.

Keith frowned again. “You don’t know?”

“I have a feeling the names of places have changed some in the past few centuries,” Shiro said with a wry smile.

“Fair enough. I’m sure Allura or Professor Coran would be happy to help you.”

Shiro doubted if they’d be  _ happy  _ to help him, but for Keith’s sake he was sure they would.

“Alright then,” Keith said. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Have a good day.”

“You too,” Shiro said, and when Keith walked out the door, he tried not to feel too alone.

(Which was ridiculous--he’d been alone for hundreds of years. One day was absolutely nothing.)

Shaking his head to clear away the thoughts, Shiro went in search of maps and helpful elves.

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


It was a good day. Keith had the matter settled with Shiro, and even if his first attempt at name-finding hadn’t been a success, he had plenty of supplies for further casting. Things definitely hadn’t gone smoothly in the past week, but it was far from a write off. Plus, his dream had been good the night before: just lying next to Shiro in the grass, looking at clouds. It’d be great if all his dreams could be that peaceful. 

(Wishful thinking, no doubt, but still.)

Keith entered the subway and couldn’t help smiling. His last ride had been with Shiro, and the poor demon had looked miserably cramped. In retrospect, it had been a cute look on him. 

Keith’s good mood lasted him all the way to 692C Bell Street: his grandmother’s apartment. 

Guilt crashed down on him, looking at the beloved building he had grown up in. The bottom floor was the tea shop she’d worked in for years (and still helped out in from time to time) and the top floor was her tiny home. Keith had done a fair job keeping regular contact with her through emails and phone calls and visits when he could--the academy was less than two hours away, after all--but it was never enough. He knew she missed him, and he definitely missed her. 

He’d almost left without saying goodbye in person, too.

(Who knew if he would come back before----no. There was no use thinking like that.)

Gathering up his courage, Keith let himself into the building and started climbing the stairs to his grandmother’s apartment and let himself in. She wasn't in, but that was no surprise. Most mornings she went to a retired witches club where they broke small curses or fixed charms as charity work. He looked around for chores to do and settled on dusting the high shelves. She refused to use magic for household cleaning and was too stubborn to get to help, and one of these days she really was going to fall off her step stool and break a hip.

He had just finished vacuuming and was starting on mopping the kitchen when the front door open.

“Hi, Grandma,” he said.

“What sort of manners--not telling me you were coming? How can I have muffins ready when my grandson doesn’t warn me?” she teased, eyes crinkling as she pulled him into a hug. “Look at you,” she said, pulling back and giving him a critical look. “Too skinny. What do they feed you at that academy? Nevermind. I’m making lasagna.”

Keith grinned and set to work, put on a pot of water to boil while his grandmother fished for spices in the cupboards, talking his ear off about the latest neighborhood gossip. It was always like this when he came over, and he loved it. It felt like home.

By the time the lasagna was safely in the oven and the table was set and ready, Keith was thoroughly caught up, and his grandmother bumped him with her hip.

“Let’s hear it, then. What’s the update on your demon troubles? Your last email left me wanting,” she chided, but it was sweet.

Keith was good about emailing her several times a week--she despised the phone and yet loved messaging--but the past few days had been so hectic that he’d only given her the barest details. He poured out the story, sharing everything but his methods of feeding Shiro, and she listened with sharp eyes. 

“This Shiro fellow sounds quite useful,” she said, “but a little too convenient. What terms did he break with his former host?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. “It’s not my place to ask.”

Grandma Kogane looked at him sharply. “If not you, then who? Make sure you ask him.”

Keith shrunk into his shoulders. She was right. He should have asked before renegotiated terms.

Grandma Kogane clicked her tongue. “None of that. You’ve done very well. You just have one more task to do, that’s all, and you’ve made such good progress.”

“I don’t know that I have,” Keith said sadly. “I didn’t get a name from the spell. What if I never get one?” It went unspoken that he had spent his life working toward being able to cast the spell and being able to afford its reagents.

“Then you rely on your demon and pray all goes well,” Grandma Kogane said with a firm nod, like the matter of his wasted effort was nothing. 

Keith considered this. It really was getting close to the point where he would need to accept that he had done what he could. Looking back on it all, he wondered if he’d spent his time wisely.

“Grandma,” he said hesitantly, “why aren’t you mad at me for not coming home more?”

The old woman looked up sharply. “Do you think I was mad at your parents for dying?”

“What, no! Of course not!” Keith cried. “They were heroes!”

His mother and father were both first responders, and they had died working to evacuate a building after a tornado had ravaged a nearby city.

“Exactly,” Grandma Kogane said, nodding her satisfaction. “They did their best to save people, and that’s a noble and worthy thing to do. Now, tell me, are you not also a person worth saving?”

Keith blushed and mumbled. “That’s not the same.”

“What nonsense. Who could be more worth saving than my beloved grandson? You’re so talented and you’ve worked so hard, and you’ve accomplished so much already in your life! The neighbors are sick of hearing me brag about you. You’re my sweet boy and you’re doing everything in your power to save my Keith. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Keith’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you,” he whispered.   
  


“You’re welcome,” she said, eyes wet. “Now, come over here hug and me. And then check the oven. The lasagna should be ready.”

  
  


~*~*~

  
  


Keith spent the night at his grandmother’s, tucked into his childhood bed. He dreamed of good food and Shiro, sharing muffins with him on the fire escape and smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is such a hero, lol. “Let’s make Keith mad. It’ll be good for him.” 
> 
> Keith wants the D. Do we blame him? No, no we do not.
> 
> I almost didn’t include the grandmother scene because it seemed annoying to write. I don’t like writing OC family members, you know? But like...it didn’t make sense to me have Krolia/Keith’s mum in the story because she would be like WHO THREATENED MY CHILD EXCUSE ME and way too involved. Gramma Kogane could be a New Person, if that makes sense? >_<
> 
> I’m excited for More Plot Details to appear! Next chapter we’ll finally see more of Shiro’s reasons for coming to the Middle Realm, and if all goes well, we’ll get some Full On Sexy Times. :3
> 
> Alas for that, my next update will actually be for Never. I’m surprised (but delighted!) people voted for it! I did not expect many people to like that story, but I’m grateful.

**Author's Note:**

> For fic info and wild stupidity, follow my Twitter! @decidedlysarah


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